s 









A BOOKLET OF OLD FAVORITE 
COW-GAMP SONGS 

ENTITLED: 

A SONG COMPANION OF 
A LONE STAR COWBOY 



JUST OFF THE PRESS 



Price, Postpaid, 35 Gents. 



Address, the Author 

GHAS. A. SIRINGO, 

BOX 322 
SANTA HE, NEW MEXICO 






mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhwmm 




Being fifty years experience in the saddle as Cow- 
boy, Detective and New Mexico Ranger, on every 
cow trail in the wooly old west Also the doings 
of some "bad ' cowboys, such as "Billy the Kid", 
Wess Harding and "Kid Gurry". :: :: ;: :: 

By GHAS. A. SIRINGO 

Author of "Fifteen Years on the Hurricane Deck 
of a Spanish Pony" and "A Gowboy Detective". 

SANTA FE. NEW MEXICO 
19 19 



i 



-S53-4 

Ocjp^ 2. 



COPYRIGHTED, 1919, BY: 

CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 
ALI^ RIGHTS RESERVED. 





1 


B ii 


;,e.:f 


1 


\ 


-^^^!» »' ^JJ 


Mm 




,-^^^^ ', 


'^S^W 


y«lr !^'' 




r" 


r 


:sj|a 


■1, 


iw^ 

-^^ 




:•' m 


' 


^^ 


<^v ^*^* 


l^^ljr 


■ '^^^'^^f!! 


^i^^^g 


*ii.,- .* 



THE AUTHOR AND HIS RUSSIAN WOLF HOUND "JUMBO" 



Dedicated to : 

My broad-gauge friend, Alois B, Renehan, an 
eminent lawyer of Santa Fe, New Mexico, 
who is ''a friend in need, as well as a friend 
indeed. ' ' 

The Author. 



PREFACE 

This volume is to take the place of *'A Texas 
Cowboy," the copyright of which has expired. 
Since its first publication, in 1885, nearly a mil- 
lion copies have been sold. In this, ' ' A Lone Star 
Cowboj^," much cattle history is given which has 
never before been published. 

CHAS. A. SIRINGO, 

Santa Fe, 
New Mexico. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Being the recollections of a life-time spent in 
the saddle as COWBOY, DETECTIVE, and 
NEW MEXICO RANGER. 

Giving the true history of the cattle business, 
and the building up of the Great West by the 
"Fool hoe-men," as the cowboys called the new 
settlers squatting on the open cattle ranges. 

Also the history of the noted Chisholm Cattle 
Trail, from the Gulf coast of Texas, to Kansas ; as 
well as the doings of some "Bad" cowboys, in- 
cluding "Billy the Kid," "Kid Curry,'' and 
"Wess" Harding, the killer of thirty-one men. 

By Chas, A. Siringo 

Author of "A Texas Cowboy" and "A Cowboy 
Detective. ' ' 



CHAPTER I. 

MY FIRST COWBOY EXPERIENCE. 

TWO YEARS IN YANKEE-LAND, AND THE 

CITY OF NEW ORLEANS 

The writer was born and brought up amidst 
wild, long-horn cattle and mustangs in the ex- 
treme southern part of the Lone Star State. 

I first saw the light of day, and had my first 
warm meal on the seventh day of February, 1855, 
in the county of Matagorda, Texas. 

At the age of four I got my first book "larnin" 
from a '' Yankee" school-master by the name of 
Hale. A year later war broke out between the 
North and South, and my beloved schoolmaster 
hiked north to join the Yankee army. 

During the four years of bloody rebellion I saw 
much fighting on land and water, along the gulf 
coast, between the Federals and Confederates. 
Also saw many dead and wounded soldiers. 

During the war our food consisted of fish, oys- 
ters, corn-bread and sweet potatoes. Coffee was 
made of parched corn and sweet potatoes. 

When the cruel war was over, and I was eleven 
years of age, in the spring of 1867, 1 became a full- 
fledged Cowboy, wearing broad sombrero, high- 



2 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

heeled boots, Mexican spurs, and the dignity of a 
full-grown man. I had ''hired out" to run cattle 
for a Mr. Faldien, at a wage of ten dollars per 
month. During the season our work was mostly 
around Lake Austin, and on Bay prairie, where 
now stands the thriving little city of Bay City. 

The country was literally covered with wild 
mustangs, and long-horn cattle. We did nothing 
but round up and brand mavericks from one to 
lour years old, and I soon became handy with the 
lasso, as these Avild mavericks had to be lassoed, 
thrown and branded with Mr. Faldien 's brand. 
The un-branded c«ittle were public property, and 
our object was to "Make hay while the sun 
shined" by putting Mr. Faldien 's brand on as 
many cattle as possible. 

There were many other branding outfits in liic 
field, doing the same for themselves. 

In 1868 my widowed mother married a "Yan- 
kee," and sold our home and cattle. The land 
brought seventy-five cents an acre, and the cattle 
one dollar a head. Then we boarded a Morgan 
Steampship at Indianola, and started for Yankee- 
dom by way of Galveston and New Orleans; 
thence up the Mississijjpi Eiver on a steamboat to 
Saint Louis, Missouri, and by rail to Lebanon, St. 
Clair County, Illinois, which I considered the 
heart of Yankee-land. 

Now the misery of a boy began. Having to 
work out in the cold fields during the late winter 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 3 

months, only half clothed, at a wage of eight dol- 
lars a month, which I never got the benefit of, as 
it went to bny whiskey for my drnnken Yankee 
step-father; — but thank the stars, dnring spring- 
he 'Miit the road" for parts unknown; then I drew 
the wages myself, as my Mother and only Sister 
went to St. Lonis, Missouri, to try their luck in a 
strange city. That same Sister still lives in St. 
Louis, having married a prosperous business man. 
Four girls and one boy spring from that union, 
and most of them have families of their own, and 
are prosperous. 

Mother and Sister had promised to write to me, 
giving their city address, but for some reason they 
failed to do so — hence a Texas long-horn Kid was 
left alone among strangers, and in a strange land. 

During the summer I quit my heart-breaking- 
job with Mr. Moore, and went to Lebanon to learn 
the carpenter trade. I had bound myself to an old 
skin-flint who was building a new dwelling- for a 
Mr. Sargent, in the edge of town. He made me 
sign a contract that I would work for him three 
years to learn the trade. 

I worked one whole day, from sun-up to sun- 
down, turning a grindstone to grind a lot of rusty 
tools. That night, by the light of the moon I 
walked twelve miles east, and next morning hired 
to a farmer with a heart, by the name of Jacobs, 
for twelve dollars a month. 



4 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

During the harvest I made a half a liand bind- 
ing and shocking wheat. 

Late in the fall, 1869, I quit my job and walked 
to St. Louis, a distance of twenty-five miles, in 
hopes of finding Mother and Sister. 

Little did I dream of the difficulty in finding 
two people in a city of nearly half a million souls. 

Xo need to recite the hungry spells, and the 
hard beds on platforms and dry-goods boxes for 
two long weeks until I secured a job as bell-boy in 
the swell Planters Hotel. 

My wages were ten dollars a month, ])ut I aver- 
aged several dollars a day from tips. Often a 
crowd of gamblers plajdng for high stakes in a 
room would give me a ten or twenty dollar bill to 
l)uy a tray-load of drinks, telling me to keep the 
change. 

The other dozen or more bell-boys did equally 
well in the way of easy tips, and Avhen off duty we 
spent the money like drunken sailors. 

One year later, in the fall of 1870, 1 had a rough 
and tumble fight with one of the bell-hops while 
on duty, and was slapped on the cheek by the chief 
clerk, Cunningham. This slapping stirred up the 
anger in my system, and I threw up the soft job 
of bell-boy. 

With a few dollars in my ])ocket I started for 
the levee to board a steamboat headed toward 
Texas, Init on the road to the levee I butted into a 
gambling game, and lost every cent of my money. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 5 

Late in the evening I stole my way onto the Bart 
Able, which was ready to steam down the Missis- 
sippi river for New Orleans, and hid among the 
freight sacks and boxes. 

While loading freight from an old abandoned 
steamboat, in a town in Arkansas, I fell over back- 
ward into ah open hatchway, abont thirty feet 
deep and was fished ont by the captain and crew 
more dead than alive. 

On waking up I found myself in a clean bed in 
the captain's private room. 

On reaching New Orleans I was able to walk but 
couldn't bend my back, and the back of my head 
had a lump on it the size of a cocoanut. 

After eating a nice dinner on the Bart Able the 
))oat steamed back up the river for St. Louis, 
leaving me in a strange city with not a cent in 
my pocket. 

After two days of hunger, and sleeping on cot- 
ton bales, I was picked up by a kind hearted man., 
AVm. R. Myers, and taken to his lovely home, 18 
Derbigny Street. 

Mr. Myers was connected with the Couens Red 
River line of steamboats, and was wealthy in his 
own name. 

After ringing the bell at the Myers fine home, 
Mrs. Mary P. Myers opened the door. She was 
evidently shocked at the sight of a dirty faced 
urchin at her husband's side. Mr. Myers intro- 
duced me as a young Texas "Hoosier" whom he 



6 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

had brought home to fill up, as I was half starved. 

The five o'clock dinner was ready to be served 
by the two negro servants, but bless you, I had to 
endure the agony of having the meal delayed until 
I could take a bath in the neat bath-room adjoin- 
ing the dining room. 

Don 't wonder if my stomach was puffed out like 
a "Pizened pup" when dinner was over. It was, 
and the world appeared like one round ball of 
glory and contentment. 

That night in the elegant parlor I was made tell 
my pedigree, and past life. The result was, this 
old couple who had no children, offered to adopt 
me as their own son, and to give me a fine educa- 
tion, with a start in lousiness when twenty-one 
years of age. 

Of course I consented, as the rosy picture^ of 
more juicy porterhouse steaks, broiled on a char- 
coal fire, loomed up in the future. 

The next forenoon Mrs. Myers took me down to 
one of the swell clothing establishments and fitted 
me out like a young prince. I objected to the 
peaked toed gaiters and asked for a pair of star- 
top, high heeled boots, but the good lady thought 
boots would make me look too much like a 'Mioos- 
ier. ' ' 

Seeing that she was lavish with her money, I 
asked her to buy me a violin, so that I could learn 
to play "The old blind mule came trotting 
through the wilderness," and other favorite Tex- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 7 

as songs. This she agreed to do, and later carried 
out her promise. 

After the crick in my back and the lump on my 
head had ''vamoosed," in other words ''flew the 
coop," and the rare beef-steaks had painted my 
cheeks with a rosy tint, I was sent to Fisk's Pub- 
lic School to start my education. 

One week in school and I had a rough and tum- 
ble fight with another boy in the school room. In 
making my 'get-away' for the door, I ran over the 
good looking young teacher, Miss Finley, who was 
trying to prevent nay escape. The poor girl fell 
flat on her back, and I stepped on her silk, pink- 
waist as I went over her for the door. No doubt 
she thought it was a Texas stampede. 

A few days later I was sent to a pay school. 
This old professor only had a few select scholars, 
all boys, to whom he taught the German, French 
and English languages. 

In the course of a few months I had to shake the 
dust of New Orleans from my peaked toed gaitors 
on account of stabbing one of the scholars with a 
pocket-knife. He was much larger than myself 
and had my face bloody. 

Night found me wrapped in slumber among the 
cotton bales on board the MoUie Able, en-route to 
St. Louis. My slumber was not a peaceful one, as 
I awoke often to worry over my future, should 
the boy Steamcamp, die. I had seen the blood 
gushing from his wound as he ran screaming over 



8 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the grassy lawn, where we had been playing dur- 
ing the afternoon recess. 

On reaching St. Louis, after eight days and 
nights of hiding in the cotton bales, arid stealing- 
food after the deck hands finished their meals, I 
spent a day trying to find Mother and Sister. 
Then I crossed the river on a ferry boat and walk- 
ed to Lebanon, Illinois, thence to the Jacobs farm, 
where I was received with open arms, and put to 
work in the harvest field, where I had worked the 
season previous. 

When the harvest was over I longed for the 
easy life under Mrs. Mj^ers' wing. Therefore I 
drew my wages and struck out afoot for St. Louis. 
I arrived there in time to board the Robert E. Lee, 
which was starting down the river on her great 
race with the Natchez. Thousands of dollars were 
l)et on which one w^ould reach New Orleans first. 

I slipped onto the steamer and kept hidden 
most of the time Avhen the captain, or the other of- 
ficers were in sight. The cook kindly gave me 
food. 

AVe landed in New Orleans ahead of the Nat- 
chez, and there was great rejoicing aboard. The 
citizens of New Orleans presented the captain with 
a pair of gold antlers to place on the bow of his 
swift steamer. 

On the same evening of our arrival I hunted up 
Babe Fisher, a yellow negro whom I knew could 
be trusted, and who afterwards became a noted 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 9 

outlaw, to find out if the victim of my fight had 
recovered. I was informed that it required the 
skill of two prominent doctors to save young 
Steamcamp's life, but he was now about as sound 
as ever. 

This encouraged me to ring the door bell at the 
Myers mansion. My dirty face was showered with 
kisses by Mrs. Myers, who was happy over my re- 
turn. When Mr. Myers returned at night from his 
office, he too, gave me a hearty welcome. 

Mr. Myers made three visits to the German pro- 
fessor before he could induce him to take me back 
as one of his pupils. 

Now I took up my same old studies, German, 
French and English, I was a hero among the 
scholars for winning the fight with young Steam- 
camp, who had been the bully of the school. He 
had never returned to take up his studies after re- 
covering. 

Everything went on lovely, and I continued to 
enjoy the juicy beef-steaks which were served ev- 
ery evening, fresh from the charcoal furnace on 
the brick paved back yard. 

In the latter part of November a big fire broke 
out near our school, and the street was lined with 
people going to the fire. I asked the professor if 
I could go and see the blaze. In a gruff voice he 
answered "No!" I then yelled "Goodbye," 
and broke for the door. 

It was night when the excitement of the fire 



10 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

died down. I then walked to the levee, and after 
a wait of an hour or more I slipped onto the St. 
Mary, a Morgan steamship bound for Indianola, 
Texas. 

I kept hid out all night, and next morning was 
l)ut to work scouring brass railings to pay for my 
food and passage. 

After a stormy trip we arrived in Indianola, 
Texas, one morning about sun-up. 

On viewing the old warf, from which I stepped 
onto the gang-plank of the Crescent City about 
two years previous, I shouted deep down in my 
heart: Back at last to the dear Lone Star State; 
the natural home of the cowboy and long-horn 
steer. 

The winter was spent working for H. Selickson, 
in his beef factorj'^, where cattle were butchered 
for their hides and tallow ; my wages being fifteen 
dollars a month. 

Early in the spring of 1871 I visited among m;/ 
friends in the town of Matagorda, and on the pen- 
insula, the place of my birth. 

About April the first I hired out to Tom Nie, 
now known as **the Onion king" of Lerado, Texas. 
He was making up a crew of cowboys to work on 
the Ranclio Grande, on Trespalacios Creek, 
about twenty-five miles northwest from the to\-n 
of Matagorda. 

We went by sail-boat to Palacios Point, where 
tlio Rancho Grande Company had an outside 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 11 

camp. There we joined other cowboys, making a 
crew of twenty, and from there went overland to 
the Rancho Grande headquarters 

We found the headquarter ranch a busy place, 
getting ready for the spring work. Here there 
were a company store, a church house, and the 
nice home residence of Jonathan Pierce. 

The two Pierce Brothers, Abel (''Shanghai") 
and Jonathan, were in partnership with Mr. Sam 
Allen, and a Mr. Pool, of eastern Texas. They 
owned this Rancho Grande, and the more than 
100,000 long-horn cattle, scattered over hundreds 
of miles of grassy range. 

There were about 50 cowboys at the headquar- 
ter ranch; a few Mexicans, and a few negroes 
among them. We had unlimited credit at the com- 
pany store. My credit was stretched almost to the 
breaking point, in purchasing a cowboy outfit, 
such as saddle, bridle, spurs, pistol, bowie-knife, 
bedding, sombrero, silk handkerchiefs, slicker 
(rain coat), high-heel boots, etc. 

"Shanghai" Pierce and his crew of cowboys 
had just arrived from the Rio Grande River with 
300 wild Mexican ponies for the spring work. He 
had paid two dollars and fifty cents a head for 
them. They were what was termed "wet" ponies 
on the Rio Grande. In other words were stolen 
stock; hence the low prices. 

On the Rio Grande river which separates Texas 
from Old Mexico, there were many traders in 



12 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

"wet" ponies, A deal was made for any num- 
ber of geldings put into the river on the Mexican 
side. All those which swam over and landed on 
the Texas side were paid for by the purchaser. Of 
course they were still dripping with river water 
when they climbed up the sandy bank on the 
eastern shore of the river. Hence the term ' ' wet ' ' 
ponies. They had been stolen by organized Mex- 
ican thieves from the large bands of Mexican pon- 
ies in Old Mexico. These wild ponies were di- 
vided among the three crews which started on the 
Spring work in different directions. 

Some of the boys were thrown from their buck- 
ing bronchos, but not so with the writer. I always 
managed to stick on, even though the pony bucked 
into the timber. Our camps were generally pitched 
at the edge of a belt of timber; hence there was 
great danger of being killed or crippled if the wild 
pony went into the timber, instead of heading for 
the open prairie. 

We always started the day's work at the first 
peep of day, and never thought of eating a noon 
meal. Often it would be pitch dark when we ar- 
rived in camp, where a warm camp-fire meal 
awaited us. These meals were made up of meat 
from a fat heifer calf, with corn bread, molasses, 
and black coffee. The negro cook, who drove the 
mess-wagon, generally had two kinds of meat, the 
calf ribs broiled before the camp fire, and a large 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 13 

dutch oven full of loin, sweet-breads, and heart, 
mixed with flour gravy. 

For breakfast we often had pork and beans 
which had been simmering over hot coals all night. 
In those days knives and forks were seldom used 
in the cow-camps; each cowboy used his bowie- 
knife or pocket knife to eat with. Nor were there 
tents to sleep in when it rained. The boys slept on 
the ground, covered w^ith a canvas or wagon-sheet 
to turn the water. 

The crew of which I was a member consisted of 
fifteen men and boys. We started work on the 
Navidad River, in Jackson County, gathering a 
herd of eleven hundred head of steers for Mr. 
Black, who had brought his crew of green Kansas 
boys, overland from Wichita, Kansas. 

In gathering this herd of old ''Mossy horn" 
steers, from four to tw^enty years old, I had a new 
experience. They were mostly wild timber cattle, 
which only graze out in the edges of the prairies 
at night, going back to the timber after daylight. 
We had to make raids on them before sun-up, by 
which time they would be back in the brushy tim- 
ber, where it was impossible to round them up, or 
rope and tie down the unruly ones. 

It is hard to believe, but nevertheless true, that 
some of these old steers had a fine coating of moss 
on their long horns. The trees were all covered 
with moss ; some more than a foot long. 

By the time we got this herd "put up," and 



14 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

turned over to Mr. Black and his crew, we were a 
worn out bunch of cowboys. Every steer had to 
be roped and thrown to be road-branded, and we 
had to stand guard every night, half the crew the 
first part of the night and the balance until day- 
light. During rain and thunder storms every cow- 
boy had to be in the saddle all night, singing and 
whistling to the restless cattle to avoid a stam- 
pede. At such times there was no sleep for any 
one but the cook. 

Stampedes were frequent on stormy nights, and 
we had to staj'- with the running herd until the 
steers became exhausted. 

It was said that Mr. Black and his crew lost the 
whole herd, through stampedes and mixing up 
with the wild range cattle, before reaching Red 
River, on the line of the Indian ''Nation," now 
Oklahoma. Later "Shanghai" Pierce reported 
meeting Mr. Black in Wichita, Kansas, work- 
ing at his trade of blacksmithing. He said that his 
first experience with long-horns had left him a 
financial wreck. 

The balance of the season, up to Christmas, we 
put in our time branding mavericks and calves. 
The mavericks were not as plentiful, or as old, as 
when I took my first lessons as a cowboy in 1867. 
Among the timber cattle we found some unbrand- 
ed bulls and cows, four and five years old, but on 
the prairies they ranged from one to two years of 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 15 

age, being calves which escaped the branding iron 
the previous seasons. 

During this year of 1871 the Rancho Grande 
company branded 25,000 calves and mavericks. 

I finally wrote to Mr. and Mrs. Myers in New 
Orleans telling them that I had attained the desire 
of my life by becoming a full-fledged cowboy, in 
the Lone Star State. In a few weeks an answer 
was received to my letter. In it was a twenty dol- 
lar bill, and a pass on the Morgan steamshij^ Line 
from Indianola to New Orleans, the money being 
for my expenses en route. 

In the letter they begged me to return and fin- 
ish my education. I wrote them that the life of 
a cowboy was good enough for me, and offered to 
return the money and the pass. In a later letter 
Mr. Myers wrote me to tear up the pass, and to 
buy a suit of clothes with the twenty dollar "wil- 
liam. ' ' Many years later this old couple died, and 
were buried in the town of Pocatello, Idaho. Mr. 
Myers had lost his wealth in a bad speculation 
with a thieving partner in Florida. Before old 
age put them under the sod, I had the pleasure of 
repaying them for all the money spent on me when 
a wild, reckless lad. 

Mrs. Myers had a sister, Mrs. Henry Beecraft, 
living in Pocatello, Idaho, and she saw that they 
had a decent burial. 

Such is life. I often think of what a narrow 



16 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

escape I had of becoming an educated business 
man, had I remained in New Orleans. 

After the branding season was over I joined 
''Bob" Partain's crew, and we established winter 
quarters at the camp house three miles from Pal- 
acios Point. Our work was shipping steers to New 
Orleans and Cuba. Twice a week a Morgan steam- 
ship would tie up at the wharf at Palacios Point, 
and it was our dut}^ to put about five hundred cat- 
tle aboard. 

Gathering crews would deliver the steers to our 
outfit, and we had to night-herd them until ready 
to ship. 

During cold northers and sleet storms we had 
a tough job night-herding. Often ''Shanghai" 
Pierce would be present to help us sing to the cat- 
tle during bad storms. "Shanghai" felt at home 
on the back of a pony. Quite different from his 
brother Jonathan, who was never so happy as 
when plowing with a yoke of oxen. In all the years 
that I knew Jonathan I never saw him in a saddle. 

It often happened that we wouldn't get the 
steers aboard the ship until late at night. Then we 
would fill up on George Burkhart's cowboy's de- 
light, such as peaches and brandy, cherries and 
brandy, and Hostetter's bitters. 

No other kind of liquors were kept in the store. 
On leaving the little village we would shoot off 
our pistols, and make a mad race of three miles 
for the camp house. Often several saddled ponies 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 17 

would be waiting for the morning feed of corn at 
the corral, their drunken riders having fallen by 
the wayside in the race for camp. 

When spring came I was assigned with a new 
crew in charge of Mr, Wiley Kuykendall, who had 
married a sister of the Pierce brothers. 

It is said that strong coffee and tobacco will kill 
a man. If this were true Mr. Kuykendall would 
have been in his grave long ago instead of leading 
a happy, retired life in Victoria, Texas, at the 
present time. 

"Mr. Wiley," as we cowboys affectionately 
called him, spent a very little of his time in bed. 
He was fond of black coffee, steaming hot from 
the camp coffee pot, and only when asleep did the 
smoke from his black pipe cease. He was up with 
the cook every morning, so as to get his cup of 
hot coffee. 

When time to wake the sleeping cowboys for 
breakfast, "Mr. Wiley" would go out to where 
their beds were spread on the ground, and shout : 
"Come boys, come, get up and hear the little birds 
singing their sweet praises to God Almighty ; D — n 
your souls, get up!" The first part of the sent- 
ence was in a sweet, low, tender voice, while the 
last part was in a loud, angry tone. This was an 
every morning occurence while I worked with 
him. 

A few years previous to the writing of this, I 
visited with Mr. and Mrs. Kuykendall at a swell 



18 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

hotel in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and found "Mr. 
Wiley" a healthy old man, still wearing his cow- 
boy hat, boots and red, silk sash to keep his pants 
up, in lieu of suspenders. Of course he attracted 
much attention among the hotel guests, but he 
didn't seem to realize it. He had become wealthy 
through the rise in the value of long-horn cattle 
and Texas soil. 

While in Hot Springs, Mr. Kuykendall ' ' harked 
back" to his barefoot days, when, as an orphan 
boy, in 1866, the year after the rebellion, he helped 
drive one of the first herds of long-horn steers 
"up the trail" to Kansas and Missouri. 

The cattle were owned by a Mr. Herindon, on 
the Colorado River, in Matagorda County. They 
started early in the spring, driving the herd in a 
haphazard w^ay toward the north, as there was no 
trail to follow. 

They crossed the south-east corner of Kansas, 
at Baxter Springs, and entered Missouri, where 
the steers were sold. Then Mr. Kuykendall says 
he and other cowboys started for home, overland, 
with the ramutha, (saddle ponies ) and pack out- 
fit, on which the grub and bedding were carried. 
In Missouri one of the pack mules was loaded 
down with apples, on which the men partially sub- 
sisted until reaching home just before Christmas. 

I shall always hold the name of "Mr. Wiley" in 
kind remembrance, as in the summer of 1872 he 
gave me my first start in the cattle business, by 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 19 

allowing me to put my own brand, which had not 
yet been recorded, as the law required, on a few 
mavericks. This made me bold, so that thereafter 
I always carried a rod of iron tied to my saddle, 
as a branding iron, to be made red hot in a brush, 
or ''cow-chip" fire, when riding over the prairie 
alone, and a fine looking maverick showed up. The 
short piece of iron being bent at one end and used 
to "run" my brand on the animal's hip. 

In the late summer our crew was sent to La- 
vaca and Calhoun Counties to gather steers and 
ship them on board Morgan steamships, in 
Indianola, for the New Orleans market. 

Later we were sent to Wharton and Colorado 
Counties to gather steers to be shipped by rail 
from Richmond and Houston. 

It was while driving a herd of these fat steers 
to Richmond that I was bitten on the foot by a 
rattlesnake, which proves that even the bite of a 
snake can't kill a tough cowboy. 

We had just swam the herd across a swollen 
stream, which caused me to get wet to the skin. 
While I was guarding the herd, part of the crew 
having gone to dinner, I disrobed to let my clothes 
dry in the hot sun. While standing barefooted in 
the tall grass the snake put two gashes across one 
foot. 

This caused the death of his snakeship, as I was 
angry and beat him to a pulp. My foot and leg 
became badly swollen, so that I couldn't wear my 



20 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

left boot for a week ; still I never missed doing my 
full share of the work, which included standing- 
guard over the herd half of each night. 

During the fall "Mr. Wiley" severed his con- 
nection with the outfit, and soon after I did like- 
wise. 

I had been working for the Rancho Grande 
Company nearly two years, without a settlement, 
or knowing how my account in the company store 
stood. My wages were twenty dollars a month, 
and whenever I needed cash, all I had to do was 
ask old "Hunkey Dorey" Brown, who was in 
charge of the store, for the amount, and he w^ould 
charge it on my account. I was a surprised and 
disappointed boy when I found that I only had 
seventy-five cents to m^^ credit. This I "blowed 
in ' ' for a bottle of peaches and brandy, and some 
stick candy, before leaving the store to ride away 
on my own pony. 

CHAPTER II 

SHOT AND WOUNDED IN THE KNEE 

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE IN A GREAT 

STORM ON THE GULF COAST OF TEXAS 

At the time Mr. Wiley Kuykendall quit the 
firm, the Pierce Brothers had sold their cattle in- 
terests to Allen and Pool for the snug sum of 
$110,000, which was a fortune in those days. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 21 

This shows what men with Yankee blood in their 
veins could do with long-horn cattle. 

As a young man, before the Rebellion, ''Shan- 
ghai" Pierce had drifted from the state where 
they make wooden nutmegs and went to work for 
W. B. Grimes, on Tres Palacios Creek, splitting 
live-oak rails at a wage of one dollar a day. 

In later years Mr. Pierce used to point out this 
ohl rail fence, which he put up, as the folly of his 
youth. 

Late in the fall the Ranclio Grande headquar- 
ters was established at Mr. John Moore's ranch 
home, at the mouth of Tres Palacios Creek — Mr, 
Moore being appointed general manager. 

John Moore had an only son, Bennie, who was 
put in charge of a crew to ride over the prairies to 
cut off the horns of old stray bulls — that is an- 
imals which had no recorded owner, as they had 
drifted with the hordes of other cattle during 
northers and sleet storms from the north, during 
the four years of bloody Rebellion, when the men 
and boys of middle and northern Texas were too 
busy fighting the Yankees to look after their cat- 
tle. 

During the late fall much of my time was spent 
with Bennie Moore's crew helping rope and throw 
these wild bulls. It was fun for me, and I asked 
no pay. 

Bennie Moore was champion bull roper of the 
crew. He had two ponies gored to death by angry 



22 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

bulls, tied to one eud of a thirty foot rope, the 
other end being securely fastened to the saddle 
horn, which was the custom in those days. 

These lassos were made of either hard twisted 
grass, rawhide, or hair from a horses mane. 

The cowboy who was first to throw his rope 
over the bulls head would run around him while 
he was on the run, and when his front legs were 
over the rope Mr. Bull would flop over, then one 
of the boys would pitch his rope onto one or both 
hind legs and stretch him out. Now a man with a 
sharp axe would slash off half the horn wiiich 
rested on the ground. Then he was turned ovar 
and the other horn cut off. Now the bloody old 
brute was turned loose to ponder over the cmcJ- 
ties of man. 

The object of cutting off the horns was to pre- 
vent goring each other while on board of a ship. 

Soon after, poor Bennie Moore was struck and 
killed by lightning, leaving two young sons, who 
are now prosperous cattlemen at Uvalde, Texas. 

Previous to selling out to Allen and Pool 
"Shanghai" Pierce had made a contract with the 
Cuban Government to furnish them 100,000 head 
of bulls to feed their soldier boys. 

Before quitting the Rancho Grande Company I 
had helped put some of those bulls on board the 
Morgan Steamships. For some reason only part of 
this great number of bulls were ever shipped. No 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 23 

doubt the soldiers rebelled, and swore off eating 
bull-beef. 

For many years afterwards these old bulls with 
both horns chopped off could be seen leading a 
contented life on the grassy prairies of Colorado, 
Wharton, Jackson and Matagorda Counties. 

During the winter of 1873 and 74 some of these 
old bulls put easy money into my own pocket. 

Their hides were worth five dollars each, when 
dried. As they were strays I considered it no sin 
to kill and skin them. I would ride up close to the 
bull and plant a bullet from my powder and ball, 
Colts pistol behind his ear. 

During the winter of 1872-73 I made my home 
at the Horace Yeamans ranch on Cashes Creek. 
Old man. Yeamans had a son, Horace, about my 
own age, and we went into partnership skinning 
"dead" cattle. They died that winter by the tens 
of thousands all over this coast country, bordering 
the bay of Matagorda. The country had become 
overstocked through the natural increase, and the 
hordes which drifted from the north during cold 
northers and sleet storms. Often a boggy slough 
would be completely bridged over with dead and 
dying cattle, so that the ones following could walk 
over dry-footed. 

Horace and I did most of our skinning that win- 
ter at Hamitlon's Point where the little city of 
Palacios now stands. Here the famished brutes 



24 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

could go no further south on account of Tres Pal- 
acios Bay — hence they died by the thousands. 

We made "Big" money all winter. As a side 
issue I had put my brand on a lot of mavericks 
during spare times. 

In the spring my brand was sold to George 
Hamilton, he paying me two dollars a head for all 
cattle in my brand, gathered by the different 
branding outfits during the coming seasons. The 
last money he paid me was in 1879 — Several years 
after making the trade. 

Now I had a new brand recorded in Matagorda, 
the County Seat, to put on other mavericks. I had 
the foresight to select a stray brand, which I knew 
was not on record — hence had no owner. I had 
seen grown cattle in this brand. The chances were 
that this brand belonged in one of the northern 
Counties of the state. 

The first money received from this new brand 
was for a twelve or fifteen year old steer which I 
found in W. B. Grimes' slaughter pen ready to be 
butchered for his hide and tallow. 

Never shall I forget the look on old man Grimes ' 
face when I demanded ten dollars for this steer. 
He couldn't understand how a smooth face boy 
could have the gall to claim such an old animal, on 
the strength of a new brand only on record a few 
months. Showing him the recorders certificate 
convinced this shrewd old Yankee that I w^as the 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 25 

rightful owner. He paid me for a few others 
later. 

In this hide and tallow factory Mr. Grimes 
slaughtered from one to three hundred head of 
cattle a day — many of them being strays, which 
didn't cost him a cent. 

During the late fall Horace Yeamans and I 
made a camping trip along the Bay shore to lay in 
a supply of bacon for the winter. The marshes 
were full of wild hogs. We only killed fat sows. 

When the skinning season was over, in the 
spring, I hired out at twenty dollars a month to 
Mr. W. B. Grimes. My job — along with other 
cowboys — was to guard the slaughter-pen herd 
until ready to be butchered. Mr. Nolan Keller 
was in charge of the gathering crew. About twice 
a week he would arrive with several hundred head 
of steers and turn them over to our crew. 

In the late spring Mr. Grimes gave me charge 
of his range stock of horses. I had to attend the 
horse roundups in Matagorda, Wharton, Colorado 
and Jackson counties to brand up the W. B. G. 
colts. 

When the branding season was over I took a 
contract to break some wild ponies at two dollars 
and fifty cents a head. 

Some days I would ride as high as five head of 
these wild ponies, which had never been saddled 
before. Most of them were vicious buckers. They 
had to be roped and thrown in order to get the 



26 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

liackamore — a rope halter — and the leather blind 
onto them. 

When the animal was allowed to get up on his 
feet, his eyes being blinded, he always stood quite 
still until the saddle was fastened on his back. 
Then the blind was raised in order to allow him to 
wear himself out bucking around the corral with 
the saddle. 

Now he was put outside the corral, and the 
leather blind lowered back over his eyes. Then 
when seated in the saddle the blind was raised, 
and the bucking and running began. It often re- 
quired two hours time to get him docile and back to 
the corral. Then he was turned loose among the 
others in the corral, and a fresh one saddled. 

I had no help in this work. In those days a 
cowboy considered it a disgrace to have help in 
saddling and managing a wild broncho. 

Now, in these later years, a broncho-buster 
nearly always has a helper to get the saddle on the 
broncho 's back and to guide him over the prairie. 

After I had ridden each of these ponies about a 
dozen times — the last few times with a bridle-bit 
in his mouth — they were turned over to the owner 
as ''broke." 

The winter was spent with Horace Yeamans in 
the skinning of ''dead" cattle, and the branding 
of mavericks during spare times. 

By this time I was old enough to begin to feel 
my oats — as a horsetrainer would say about his 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 27 

racer. Therefore I attended many dances during 
the winter — some of them twenty-five miles dis- 
tant from the Yeaman's ranch. 

One day when ready to ride away to one of 
these distant dances, in company with Miss Sallie 
Yeamans, I thought seriously of heaven and hell 
while being dragged over the prairie by a wild 
broncho. 

The proper way to mount a skittish horse is to 
pull his head around towards you with the left 
arm and grab the saddle-horn with the right hand, 
then put your foot in the stirrup. 

This I failed to do in mounting Satan — a large 
sorrel broncho. 

My number five high-heel, star-top, boot was 
shoved into the stirrup before grabbing the sad- 
dle-horn. The result was Satan went to bucking 
and I fell over backwards with my left foot hung 
in the stirrup. 

The long hackmore rope, fastened to Satan's 
nose, had been held coiled up in my left hand. It 
fell to the ground, and while being dragged on iny 
back I could see a negro cowboy, w^ho was present, 
running his best, afoot, trying to catch the end of 
the rope. At one time he was within a few feet 
of the dragging rope. Then I felt hopeful. But 
when I saw the end of the rope crawling furtlier 
away from the negro, I lost hope, and began to 
wonder what kind of a place hell was, and whether 
I would be treated with kindness. 



28 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

After a few hundred yards of dragging, with 
Satan's hind hoofs flying over my up-turned face, 
I began to kick frantically with my left leg. This 
brought the foot out of the stirrup. 

As the end of the hackamore rope went past me 
I grabbed it and hung on like grim death to a dead 
nigger. Now I was dragging on my stomach, 
which wore the bosom of my white "Stake and 
rider, Sunday-go-to-meetin" shirt into a frazzle. 
I finally had to turn the rope loose. 

This was certainly a case of being dragged to 
hell by Satan, had my foot not come out of the 
stirrup. 

Satan was found with a wikl bunch of ponies a 
month or two later, still wearing the saddle on his 
back. 

I finally sold him cheap to a drunken Irishman 
by the name of Martin. He and Dan — another 
gentleman from the "ould sod" — were building 
dirt dams to hold stock water for the Rancho 
Grande Company. I had Satan pretty tame when 
sold to Martin. But next morning Martin was 
quite sober and concluded to give his pony a little 
training. Their camp was located in the timber 
near a narrow road. 

Martin mounted the pony and told Dan to go a 
short distance up the road and hide behind a pile 
of brush, then when he came galloping by, to sud- 
denly spring out of the brush. He said he wanted 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 29 

to get the pony trained to not scare at strange ob- 
jects. 

When Dan picked Martin up with a skinned face 
and body he swore at Dan for scaring the pony 
too hard. Said he ought to have sprung out of 
the brush easy. This was Martin's last ride on 
Satin — as he joined a wild bunch away from the 
haunts of dam-builders. 

Early in the coming spring I hired out to Tom 
Merril (who was later murdered, as was also his 
young wife, by renegade Mexicans in Tom Green 
County, Texas), at thirty- five dollars a month, to 
be one of his cowboys "up the Chisholm Trail" to 
Kansas. 

We gathered and road-branded the herd of old 
"mossy-horn" steers, eleven hundred head, on the 
Navidad River in Jackson County. 

These steers were purchased from Leandro and 
Lafe Ward by the Mackelroy Brothers, who had 
hired Mr. Merrill to boss the herd "up the Chis- 
holm TraiL" 

Before reaching Austin, the Capital City of 
Texas, I rebelled on account of having to break 
wild ponies for other cowboys who were poor 
riders. 

Henry Coats — now a prosperous resident of 
Jackson County — and I had to do all the broncho- 
busting. 

Later Henry Coats also rebelled and quit the 
outfit. 



80 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

On reaching ui.y stamping ground in Matagorda 
County I worked for "Daddy" Grimes a while, 
then pulled off many other stunts, too numerous 
to mention. 

During the coming winter I established a camp 
out in the open, at the head of Cashes Creek, and 
put in mj time skinning * ' dead ' ' cattle and brand- 
ing mavericks. 

The old brand which I had on record had been 
sold, along with all cattle wearing it. Hence 
I recorded a new brand, T5 connected, to put on 
the new crop of mavericks. 

Later this brand, and the cattle were sold to 
Fred Cornelius, now a wealthy cattleman of Mid- 
field, Texas, a town which sprang up on the 
ground where much of my mavericking was done. 

During all these more than forty years, up to 
date, Fred Cornelius has used this T5 brand on his 
thousands of cattle, which he has owned since buy- 
ing the brand in 187i3 

When spring came I was put out of active busi- 
ness. I was seated on the ground by the camp- 
fire smoking, late in the evening, when Sam 
Grant, a "nigger" killer, rode up and dismounted. 
Picking up mj^ pistol, which lay on the opposite 
side of the fire from where I was sitting, he ex- 
amined it, then threw it away, at the same time 
pulling his pistol, with the remark, "Why don't 
you have a good one like mine!" He then fired 
at my heart. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY :il 

My hands were clamped around my left leg — the 
knee being on a level with my heart. The large 
dragoon bullet struck the knee going through and 
lodging near the skin on the opposite side. 

He was raising the pistol as though to fire 
again when a negro cowboy, Lige, galloped into 
camp out of the heavy timber and brush. This, 
no doubt, saved my life. 

Grant swore to Lige, who had dismounted, and 
was holding me up with one hand, that his pistol 
went off accidentally. 

Then Grant galloped away saying he would 
send a doctor from Demings Bridge Post-office, 
the old Ranclio Grande Headquarters. 

The doctor came late at night and cut the bullet 
out. liige assisted me to the Yeamans ranch 
a few miles below on the creek. 

It was thirty- five years later when I learned 
from my friend Nolan Keller, the true secret of 
this attempted assassination, 

A certain wealthy cattleman, who is now dead, 
hired Sam Grant to kill me, on account of my bold- 
ness in branding mavericks, and killing stray bulls 
for their hides. 

At that time Nolan Keller was foreman for this 
cattle-man and learned the secret of his deal with 
Grant. 

Mr. Keller is now a respected citizen of Pal- 
acios, Texas. 

When able to ride, and walk with a crutch, I 



32 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

made my home with Mr. John Pierce at the old 
Rancho Grande headquarters. All I had to do was 
assist little Johnny Pierce— now a wealthy banker 
of Palacios, Texas, — and "Shanghai" Pierce's 
little daughter, Mamie, to and from the school 
house, two miles distant. 

It was my duty to care for their ponies and to 
see that the youngsters were not hurt. At the 
' same time I was getting some book learning, by 
attending school myself. I found it a pleasant 
home at the Pierce residence. Mrs. Nanny Pierce 
and her old mother, Mrs. Lacy, were like mothers 
to me. 

The old lady, Mrs. Lacy, used to "hark back," 
and tell me of my Grand-parents, the Whites, who 
in 1852, bought a tract of land from the Lacys, on 
Tres Palacios Creek. 

She told of how the Whites built a nice farm 
house witli the first glass windows ever seen in 
that part of the state. They had brought the glass 
from Ireland with them. 

In the family there were three husky boys, and 
two girls — my mother being one of the girls. 

The boys built a sod fence around "their field — 
the outlines of which can still be traced. 

Mrs. Lacy told of how the great storm of 1854 
scattered the White residence over the prairie, 
leaving pieces of window glass on its path. 

This calamity broke the old couple's hearts, and 
they soon after died in the log house built after 



A LOiNE STAR COWBOY 33 

the storm. Their bodies were laid to rest at the 
foot of an old live-oak tree, by the Lacy family 
and other neighbors. 

A few days after starting to school the red- 
headed schoolmaster, Mr. Carson, concluded to 
whip me, so as to convince the other scholars that 
he wore men's size pants, but when he started in 
I pulled a knife and threated to carve him into 
mince-meat if he didn't go back and sit down, 
which he did. 

I remained until school was dismissed, so as to 
take the Pierce children home. Next morning I 
saddled my pony, bade the Pierces goodby, and 
headed east with my crutch tied to the saddle. 

At the Sam Allen ranch on Simms Bayou I laid 
over a few days to rest. Mr. Sam Allen, for whom 
I had worked when he was in partnership with the 
Pierce brothers, treated me royally. He was a fine 
old man, but at meals he wouldn't allow his cow- 
boys to cut bread from the loaf. He said it was 
bad luck. It had to be broken. 

I often wonder if his son, who has stepped into 
the old man's boots since his death, and who is at 
this writing, a wealthy resident of Houston, still 
keeps up the superstition. 

While visiting my aunt Mary McClain, of Hous- 
ton, and Uncle Nicholas White, of Galveston, I 
had the pleasure of shaking hands with the Con- 
federate President, Jeff Davis. Wliile attending 
the first State Fair ever held in Texas, at Hous- 



34 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ton, Uncle "Nick," who was an old confederate 
soldier, introduced me to Mr. Davis. 

On leaving Galveston Uncle "Nick" slipped 
dome "green-back" money into my pocket, 
and presented me with the old Spencer repeating 
rifle which he had carried through the civil war ; 
he said it had put many Yankees to sleep. Of 
course I was proud of the gift, as cartridge re- 
peating rifles w^ere scarce, and hard to obtain in 
those days. 

Another stop at the Sam iiUen ranch, and then 
I hired out to Joe Davis, who had a contract fur- 
nishing beef to the building crews on the Gulf, 
Colorado, and Santa Fe railroad at Virginia 
Point, near Galveston. 

Early in the fall I landed back at Demings 
Bridge post-office, and learned that Mother was 
waiting for me at the Morris ranch at Hamiltons 
Point. 

On getting my letter in St. Louis, Missouri, tell- 
ing of my wound, she hurried to me, but arrived 
only a few days after I had departed for parts un- 
known to anyone, hence she had a long and anx- 
ious wait. 

It was September when I found Mother sick in 
bed at the Morris home. 

As Mr. Morris, and his son Tom, were going 
to Indianola in their schooner. Mother and I 
scraped together all the cash we had and sent after 
lumber, etc., to build a home. But this money 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 35 

went to feed the fishes in Matagorda Bay, as the 
great storm of 1875, which washed Indianola off 
the face of the earth, scattered the Morris schoon- 
er, and everji;hing on board, to the four winds of 
heaven. Morris and his son saved themselves by 
swimming. 

This same storm cured Mother of her sickness. 
About ten o'clock at night, when the seventy-five 
mile wind took the roof off the Morris house, let- 
ting in the flood of rain, I picked Mother up out 
of her sick bed and jumped into the foan'.ing 
water, which was more than w^aist deep. 

Through my advice Mrs. Morris and her two lit- 
tle girls and two sons followed suit. It required 
all my strength to hang onto Mother and to keep 
the Morris family from drowning. Once they be- 
came tangled up in a bunch and were on top of 
jimmie, the oldest boy, who was under the watc^j'. 

The wind was from the west, blowing us out 
into Tres Palacios bay — two miles wide. 

Knowing that there was an osage hedge of large 
trees a few hundred yards to the westward, I de- 
cided to face the wind and tide to reach that haven 
of safety. Hence my little crew were drilled to 
keep only their heads above water and their feet 
in the mud — leaning their bodies towards the 
wind. 

All except Mother, who Avas as limber as a dish- 
rag, heeded my advise. 

Inch by inch we crept towards the hedge. It re- 



?6 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

quired nearly an hour's struggle to reach it. Then 
we were saved. 

When daylight came the only living creature, 
outside of ourselves, in sight, was a bay broncho 
which Jimmie and I had caught f ronr a wild bunch 
the evening before. He was tied at the end of a 
long rope fastened to a strong stake driven into 
the ground. He had been floundering in water 
almost over his back during the night, but now it 
was only knee deep — as the tide was going down. 

By looking across the bay we could see the shore 
piled high with rubbish and dead stock. 

When the sun peeped over the eastern horizon 
we began to think of breakfast. The nearest ranch 
was the Yeamans home, five miles to the north- 
ward. 

Jimmie, who was younger than myself, and I 
decided to draw straws to see who should ride the 
wild broncho bare-back to the Yeamans ranch 
after a wagon and grub. Jimmie drew the unlucln' 
straw. 

AVe used a shirt to make a blind for the broncho. 
AVhen Jimmie was seated on his bare back, vdih 
the hackamore reins in his hands, I raised the 
blind and said "go." We had made a hackamore 
out of the stake rope that the broncho was tied 
with. 

In spite of the hard bucking, Jimmie stuck on 
his back, and finally got him headed north in a 
run. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 37 

It was noon when the wagon and grub arrived. 

Strange to relate, this ducking cured Mother 
and she forgot about being sick. 

She lived to be eighty-six years of age and died 
a peaceful death in the Sister's Sanitarium in 
New Mexico's Capital City, Santa Fe. 

^Vith almost her last breath she begged me to 
make my peace with God, while the making was 
good. 

Five years have passed since that dear old 
mother was laid away in Eosario Cemetery. 

I have been too busj^ to heed her last advice. Be- 
ing a just God, I feel that He will overlook my 
neglect. If not, I will have to take my medicine, 
with Satan holding the spoon. 

CHAPTER III. 

A TRIP UP THE CHISHOLM TRAIL TO KAN- 
SAS. A LONELY RIDE THROUGH 
THE INDIAN NATION. 

In the early spring of 1876 I hired out to W. B. 
Grimes to heljo drive a herd ''Up the Chisholm 
Trail" to Kansas, at thirty dollars a month. 

We gathered the herd of 2500 old "mossy- 
horn" steers on the Navidad and Guadalupe 
rivers, in Colorado, Jackson and Victoria Coun- 
ties. 

None but old steers, from five to twenty years 
old were gathered. Most of them were wild tim- 



38 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ber cattle which only venture out on the edges of 
the prairies at night — grazing back to the timber 
before sunup. 

At first, while the herd was small, we would 
corral at night in one of the many public corrals 
scattered over this coast country. When the herd 
become too large, we had to night-herd, each cow- 
boy being up singing to the steers half the night. 

In corraling these steers for the night we had 
great sport. Often we wouldn't get to camp with 
the bunch gathered that day until after dark. In 
that case the job of getting the whole herd into 
the corral was a severe one. 

These public corrals, built of large live-oak logs, 
had wings extending out from the gate several 
hundred yards ; the outer ends of the wings being 
far apart. 

We would handle the herd gently until inside 
tlie wing enclosure, then a man up a tree would 
think Hades had broken loose. Then it became a 
case of shove. The yelling and beating of quirts 
against leather ''chaps" could be heard miles 
away. 

We were lucky to get half the herd into the cor- 
ral the first attempt. Then the ones which had 
broken through the~ string of yelling cowboys were 
rounded up, and another attempt made. 

Towards the last there would be many old fight- 
ing steers which couldn't be got back to the vdng 
enclosures. Some would run for the timber near 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 39 

by, fighting mad. Then there was nothing to do 
but tie the mad brute down till morning. This be- 
ing a dangerous job for a lone cowboy if the night 
was dark. 

For the purpose of tying down these unruly 
steers pieces of hobble rope were kept tied on the 
saddles. 

One dark night I ran out of rope hobbles — hav- 
ing previously tied down three steers — and had to 
tie a mad brute down with my silk sash — used 
wrapped around my waist to keep up my pants, in 
place of suspenders. I could have tied him down 
with his own tail, but that way of tying an animal 
generally lames one leg for a few days. 

In tying a cow-brute down with its own tail, the 
hair on the end of the tail is divided into equal 
parts, then knotted together at the ends, forming 
a loop. Now the tail is wound once or twice around 
the animal's upper hind leg while lying flat on the 
ground, and the loop put between the split hoof. 
This keeps that leg drawn up so that the animal 
can not stand on its feet very long at a time. 

It was against the rules to hog-tie a trail steer, 
as it caused stiffness in the legs. Only the two 
hinds legs were tied together, which allowed the 
animal to stand up, though he couldn't travel very 
far in that condition. 

Sometimes we had to sew up the eye-lids 
of these old "Mossy-horn" steers to prevent them 
running for the timber every chance they got. It 



40 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

required about two weeks time to rot the thread, 
allowing the eyes to open. By this time the ani- 
mal was ''broke in." 

After gathering the herd of 2500 steers the job 
of road-branding began. Small bunches were cut 
off from the main herd and put in a corral. Then 
each animal had to be roped and thrown by cow-- 
boys afoot, who w^orked in pairs. Now the road- 
brand, G, was burnt into the hair sufficiently deep 
to last "up the trail." 

Often the corral was ankle deep with mud, mak- 
ing it tough on the cowboy's fine, calf-skin boots. 
Being wet they were hard to get off and on, there- 
fore the boys generally slept with their boots on. 
At one time I wore my boots night and day for 
two weeks at a stretch, as they were number fives 
when they should have been number sixes. Cow- 
boys took great pride in small feet. 

When we finally got strung out ''upp the trail" 
the crew consisted of twenty-five cowboys, the 
cook,who drove the mess-wagon, and the boss, Asa 
Dowdy. 

Stampedes at night during the spring rains and 
thunder storms were frequent. Then the boys had 
to remain in the saddle all night, othermse they 
could sleep half the night. 

The striking of a match to light a cigarette, or 
pipe, or a pony shaking the saddle, often caused 
stampedes. 

On reaching the town of Gonzales our boss did 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 41 

a foolish tiling. He concluded to give the boys a 
full nights rest by corraliiig the whole herd in the 
large House corral, a few miles west of town. 

By night we had the w^hole herd into the corral. 
It was jammed full. 

After supper, as was the custom when a corral 
contained wild cattle, all the boj^s took their bed- 
ding and night-horse to the corral and spread out 
their beds around it, equal distances apart. 

Then the boys retired for the night, sleeping 
with their clothes on, and holding the bridle-reins, 
or liackamore rope, of their pony in one hand. 

These public corrals were built round, so that in 
case of a stampede, the boys could, by yelling and 
the shaking of slickers, etc., get the herd to mill- 
ing in a circle, until exhausted. 

About midnight while we were all asleep, a 
storm sprang up. A loud crash of thunder and 
lightning started a stampede. The frightened herd 
went through the corral where I was sleeping. I 
barely had time to mount my pony, which saved 
me from being trampled to death. 

The corral was built of large live-oak logs and 
rails — the largest logs being at the bottom, next to 
the ground. The herd went through it as though 
it was built of paper. 

While running in the lead of the herd, during 
flashes of lightning, I could see fence rails on top 
of the steers backs. The herd being jammed into a 
solid mass the rails couldn't fall to the ground. 



42 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The boss had slept in camp with his clothes off. 
In this condition he sprang onto his night-horse, 
tied to a wagon wheel, and was soon in the lead of 
the herd; but before getting there his pony ran 
against a tree and almost tore off one of his little 
toes, he being fare-footed. Being in his under 
clothes he^ suffered greatly from the wound, and 
cold rain. At daylight I tied up the wound with 
a handkerchief. The toe was hanging by the strong 
cords. I managed to get it back in place before 
tying it up. 

On reaching the edge of the prarie, about a mile 
from camp, the herd split in two halves, the boss 
and I stajdng with one bunch. 

When daylight came, and the steers had exhaust 
ed themselves, we were ten miles from camp, on 
an open prairie. 

On riding back to camp over the trail made by 
the fleeing herd in the soft mud, many steers Avith 
broken legs were passed. Some had one or both 
horns knocked loose from their heads. This being 
caused by running up against the corral, or into 
trees before reaching the prairie. 

I doubt if there ever was such a large herd of 
wild steers put into one corral before, or since. 

On reaching the Capital city of Austin, on the 
Colorado River, two hundred miles from its mouth 
at the town of Matagordo, we struck the ''Chis- 
liolm Trail" proper. From here north to the 
line of Kansas, a distance of about seven hundred 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 43 

miles, it was one continuous road-way, several 
hundred yards wide, tramped hard and solid by 
the millions of hoofs which had gone over it. It 
started in at a ford three miles below the city. All 
smaller trails from the different Gulf-coast dis- 
tricts merged into this great and only ''Chisholm 
Trail." 

Now half of our crew returned home overland, 
leaving us with a crew of twelve cowboys, with six 
picked ponies for each rider. 

We finally reached the over-grown county seat 
of Ft. Worth — now one of the leading cities of 
Texas. W^e drove through the eastern edge of 
town covered with new board shanties. Dogs run- 
ning out to bark at us caused a stampede. The 
occupants of these new houses became greatly ex- 
cited until the running herd was past. 

Ft. Worth's first railroad, the Texas Pacific, 
had just struck town, or was near by, which ac- 
counted for so many new houses on the old ''Chis- 
holni Trail." 

xlfter leaving Ft. Worth we found many of the 
watering places fenced up by new settlers. Barbed 
wire had just come into use, and many of the 
fences were of this material. We paid no attention 
to fences, but shoved the herd right through them. 

On one occasion we had a big stampede when 
the barbed wire hung to the steers horns and 
tails, and the big and little ^'hoe-men" ran out to 
sick the dogs on us. Some of these dogs "bit the 



44 . A LONE STAR COWBOY 

dust ' ' by having hot lead shot into them by angry 
cowboys, who regarded the "Chisholm Trail" too 
sacred to be scratched with plows and hoes. 

We passed through a ten mile stretch of black- 
jack timber before reaching Red River, the divid- 
ing line between Texas and the Indian ' * Nation, ' ' 
now the state of Oklahoma. 

We found Red River a raging torrent, nearly a 
mile wide, and full of drifting trees and logs. 
Therefore we were compelled to "lay over" a cou- 
Ijle of days to wait for the river to lower, as the 
drifting timber made it too dangerous to attemjot 
a crossing. 

There were about twenty herds ahead of us 
waiting for the driftwood to cease flowing. 

These twenty-one camps were about half a mile 
apart, and at night the air rang with the voices of 
singing cowboys. These songs were mostly old 
favorites, such as Sam Bass, Mustang Grey, The 
Dying Cowboy, and When You and I AVere Young- 
Maggie. 

The next day other herds arrived, which swelled 
tl-e numbers of camps, all within a radius of a few 
miles. 

On the evening of the second day the Cattle tn- 
spoctor from Red River Station, a few miles up 
the river, visited all the camps and told the bosses 
that he would start in early next morning to in- 
spect the lierds. He was employed by the state to 
inspect all cattle before they crossed the river 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 45 

into the Indian ''Nation." His fee was ten cents 
a head, and it was his duty to cut out all strays 
not wearing the regular road-brand. Eange cattle 
were scattered all along the trail and many of 
them would get into the herds while spread out 
grazing. 

At daylight the following morning the Inspect- 
or rode into the nearest camp to the crossing to 
inspect that herd. 

The boys were eating breakfast and the boss in- 
vited the Inspector to have a cup of coffee. 

While drinking the coffee he was thrown to the 
ground and hog-tied, then a handkerchief was 
shoved into his mouth so he couldn't scream. In 
this condition he was carried a few hundred yards 
down the river and thrown into a plmn thicket. 
Then the boys got a shears and clipped the mane 
and tail of his fine Kentucky mare. Now letters 
were cut into the hair on her side, which read: 
"The Inspector is fixed," or words to that effect. 
Then the mare was turned loose and she ran to- 
wards home. 

Now the herd was romided up and put across 
the river, which had fallen during the night, so 
tliat there were only a few hundred yards to swim. 

Soon a runner came to our camp and told thf' 
boss that the Wess Harding bunch of cowboys had 
got away with the Inspector, and that if he want- 
ed to save the inspection fee — which would have 
amounted to two hundred and fifty dollars — and 



46 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the strays, he had better hurry across the river 
before the mob came from Red River Station. 

We lost no time in shoving the herd into the 
river, thus saving the insj^ection fee, and a couple 
of hundred strays, which were sold in Wichita, 
Kansas, along with the balance of the herd. 

While putting the herd across the river I did a 
foolish thing, which has left a blotch on my con- 
science to this day. 

While the herd was being shoved into the water 
by the yellow cowboys in the rear, I was stationed 
between the high dirt bank and the waters edge, on 
the right hand side, to keep the herd headed for 
the other shore. The loud yelling of the cowboys 
had brought a bunch of cattle out of the timber 
on the run, with heads and tails up. They came 
tearing towards me. There were about one hun- 
dred head, all fine blooded durhams. 

I stood looking at these beauties with open- 
mouth wonder until it was too late to run them 
back. They went right into the herd and swam 
across the river with the steers — thus adding gold 
dollars to jingle in *' Daddy" Grimes' pocket. 
They were sold in AVichita, Kansas, for big- 
money. 

The chances are some new settler further down 
the river had brought this little herd from the 
east, and, no doubt, much sleep had been lost hunt- 
ing for them. 

Nearlv three years later in the fall of 1879, I 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 47 

crossed Red Eiver above Red River Station, and 
made inquiry about the fate of the Inspector. I 
learned that wlien his mare came home his wife 
gave the alarm, and every male citizen in the vil- 
lage old enough to ' * tote ' ' a gun started down the 
river to search for the Inspector. He was found 
in the plum ticket two days later; almost eaten 
up by flies and mosquitos. And that after recov- 
ering he sold out his interests in Red River Sta- 
tion and returned to Kentucky. 

In going through the Indian ''Nation" we had 
several bad rivers to swim. The Wachita, and the 
South and North Canadians being the worst. 

Large bands of mounted blanket Indians gave 
us much trouble. They were in the habit of rid- 
ing into camp when the cook was alone and eating 
all the cooked grub in sight. They also demanded 
the bosses to give them "who-haws", (steers) for 
beef, or they would stampede the herd at night. 
In this way these roaming bands from the Coman- 
che, Kiowa, Kickapoo and Wichita Agencies, to 
the westward, near the Wichita Mountains, kept 
themselves well supplied with fresh meat. They 
were the cause of many stampedes among the hun- 
|lreds of herds passing up the trail at this season 
of the year. 

On reaching Salt Fork River our misery began. 
After breakfast the boss had gone on ahead with 
the two wagons. We had lately rigged up a 
wagon to haul a supply of wood. 



48 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

About ten a. m. tlie Loss came running Lack 
and told us to hurry as fast as possible, as the 
river was rising fast. He said he managed to get 
the wagons over just in time, as the drift-wood 
and trees began flowing soon after. 

When we arrived at the river she was about a 
half mile wide and full of drift-wood. 

The lead steers were pointed into the foaming 
water. The boss and Otto Draub were on the 
left point, while Negro Gabe and I were on the 
right, to keep the leaders from turning back. Hen- 
ry Coats was out in the lead, and the steers fol- 
lowing him nicely. 

When the water became deep enough to swim, 
Henry Coats' horse refused to swim. He fell over 
on his side, and in the excitement the lead steers 
turned back onto Gabe and me, and swam back to 
the shore. 

We made a dozen efforts to get the herd back 
into the water, but failed. By this time it was 
raining, and the wind blowing a gale. 

There we were in a fix, separated from our grub 
and bedding. 

The wagons had gone on to the Pond Creek 
Stage Station, where now is located the prosper- 
ous town of Pond Creek, Oklahoma, a couple of 
miles from the river. 

No doubt our failure to get the herd into the 
river was a God-send, for some of us might have 
been drowned. It makes it very dangerous for 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 49 

man and beast wlien strnck by a swift flowing log 
or tree. Manj^ trail boys have been drowned 
tlirongh this cause. Also horses and cattle. 

Now we drove the herd down the river, a mile 
or two, where there was a belt of timber. 

Late in the evening the rain ceased for a while, 
then a large camp fire was built of wet logs, and 
never allowed to go out during our stay here. 
Night and day the fire was kept burning. Being 
so large and hot the rain could 't put it out. For 
supper a fat steer was butchered, and each cow- 
boy not on duty with the cattle, roasted enough to 
satisfy his hunger. It had to be eaten without 
salt. 

Early at night a new rain storm, with much 
lightning and thunder, broke out. Hence every 
man had to be in the saddle to stay with the drift- 
ing herd till daylight, by which time we were sev- 
eral miles from camp. Every now and then the 
whole herd would stampede. 

Two days later Negro Gabe and I were hunting 
lost steers when we found an ear of yellow corn on 
the trail. That night we slipt off from the other 
boys and built a small fire to roast meat, and 
parch corn in the hot ashes. Gabe contended that 
God had dropped this ear of corn there for our 
special benefit. 

The cold drizzling rain continued night and day. 
We managed to get a little sleep by rolling up in 
our saddle blankets, close to the camp fire. 



50 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Had it not been for the fact that the Cimarron 
and AVild Horse rivers were roaring torrents, otli- 
er trail outfits would have arrived to furnish us 
with grub and bedding. We had the whole coun- 
try between Salt Fork and Wild Horse to our- 
selves. 

On the seventh day, in the afternoon, the boss, 
Hastings and I were hunting steers lost in a stam- 
pede the night before, when we saw the tents of 
a company of U. S. soldiers on the opposite side 
of Wild Horse, which was a roaring, swift flowing- 
stream, about two hundred j'ards wide. 

On being told by the captain that we could have 
all the grub we wanted by coming over to get it, 
I jumped my pony into the foaming water and 
swam across. Then a wash tub was borrowed 
from the captain's wife. This was filled full of 
flour, bacon, coffee, sugar and salt, and guided to 
the opposite shore. I swam by the side of the tub, 
landing several hundred yards below, being car- 
ried down by the swift current. 

Now the tub was carried up stream and launched 
back into the water. 

Thanking the captain's wife for the use of her 
boat, I mounted my pony and swam back to my 
companions. 

A large tin can had been taken along to make 

coffee in, also a few small cans to be used as cups. 

That night the boj^s had a picnic filling up. The 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 51 

bread was baked by rolling it on sticks and hold- 
ing it over hot coals. 

The next morning the sun came out and there 
was not a cloud in the sky. 

This being the eighth day since separating our- 
selves from the mess-wagon. 

The river had gone down so that we only had 
about one hundred yards to swim. 

The cook and driver of the wood wagon w^ere 
found well rested at the Pond Creek ranch. 

Now we continued on "up the trail", passing 
the noted grave of Hennessey, a cowboy killed 
two 3^ears before, in 1874, by the Avild Comanche 
Indians, who had turned out on the war-path, kil- 
ling every white person they came across. 

Near his grave the town of Hennessey, Oklaho- 
ma, is now located. 

At Bluff Creek, a few miles west of Caldwell, 
we crossed over the line of the Indian "Nation" 
and were in the Sunflower State. 

On reaching the Ninnescah river, at the mouth 
of Smoots creek, a permanent camp was estab- 
lished. Mr. W. B. Grimes, who had come around 
by rail, was there to meet us. 

When Mr. Grimes returned to Wichita, thirty 
miles east, the boss and some of the boys accom- 
panied him, to receive their summer's wages and 
free railroad transportation back to Southern 
Texas. 

In those days it was the custom for all cowboys 



52 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

who wished to return home, to receive free rail- 
road tickets. 

It was the fourth day of July when our camp 
was pitched on the Ninnescah river. 

The herd was split into three bunches to fatten 
for the fall market. I remained with one herd of 
800 steers. Our outfit consisted of a boss, four 
cowboys, a cook and mess-wagon, with five saddle 
ponies to the rider. Five miles east of the mouth 
of Smoots Creek lived a New York family who 
had taken up a quarter section of land and put in 
a crop. From them we bought eggs and vege- 
tables. They had acres of watermelons and canta- 
loupes, but these didn't cost us a penny. All we 
had to do was load the mess-wagon ^vith dry cow- 
chips from an old bed-ground and dump them at 
the kitchen door, then load the wagon with melons. 
These cow-chips being used as fuel, as there was 
no timber or wood near by. 

Soon after pitching camp on the Ninnescah, one 
of our trail boys, John Marcum, entered a Gov- 
ernment homestead in the forks of the Ninnescah 
and Smoots Creek. He was laughed at as a ''fool 
hoeman," but he took the joking good-naturedly. 

I have always had a desire to see this Marcum 
farm, now that the country is thickly settled and 
highly improved. 

It was the first part of August before I had an 
opportunity to see the cattle town of Wichita, 
Kansas. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY • 53 

Another cowboy and I rode the thirty-five miles 
from camp in quick time. The first thing we did 
was to go to the New York store and fit out with 
new" clothes from head to feet. 

We found Wichita to be a livery town of about 
2500 inhabitants. Now it is a city with eighty-five 
thousand population. 

By the time the barbers got through fixing us 
up it was dark. 

Now our ponies were mounted and we struck 
out in a gallop for Eowdy Joe's dance hall across 
the Arkansas river.. There were other dance halls 
across the river, but Rowdy Joe had the name 
throughout Southern Texas, of running the swift- 
est joint in Kansas — hence we steered for his 
place. 

On nearing the toll bridge the one-legged man 
came out of his shanty to collect the twenty-five 
cents toll. We both went past him on the run, 
shooting our pistols off over his head. The poison 
liquor we had drunk since our arrival in town 
made us feel gay. 

When half-way across the bridge the one-legged 
man turned both barrels of a shot-gun loose at 
us. We could hear the buckshot rolling along the 
bridge floor, under our ponies feet. One shot hit 
me in the calf of my left leg, and the scar re- 
mains to this day, as a reminder of Wichita's 
hurrah days. 

It was in Wichita that Wild Bill made his rec- 



54 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ord as a killer of men, while acting as city mar- 
sliall, and on one of the public streets Wess Har- 
ding a Texas man-killer, shot and killed one of Ms 
own cowboys for wearing a stove-pipe hat. The 
clerks in one of the stores had put it on his head 
as a joke, and while walking down the street he 
met AVess Harding, for whom he had come "up the 
trail" with a herd of long-horns. 

Wess Harding asked him to take that thing off 
his head. He refused to do it, which cost him his 
life, as West shot him dead. At least this was the 
story told to the Rancho Grande cowboys by 
"Shanghai" Pierce on his return from Wichita 
that season. 

The boys who returned with "Shanghai" Pierce 
also told of how AVess Harding at AVichita, Kan- 
sas, beat "Shanghai" out of 300 fat steers. 

In the late summer AVess Harding borrowed 300 
fat steers from "Shanghai" to finish out a ship- 
ment that he was making to Missouri, promising 
to replace the steers later, when the balance of his 
herd became fat. 

Late in the fall, when Mr. Pierce was closing- 
out his cattle interests at AA^'ichita, to return home, 
he wrote AA^ess Harding two or three "sassy" let- 
ters about the return of those steers. One day 
they met at the Occidental Hotel. AA-'ess put his 
hand on his pistol sa^dng: "Do j'ou want those 
steers now, Shang '? ' ' Mr. Pierce smelled blood in 
the air, and in an excited manner, told AA'ess to let 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 55 

the matter drop as lie didn't need the steers. Thns 
the debt was cancelled. 

Late in the fall, after the first snow-fall a cow- 
boy by the name of Collier and I concluded to go 
to the Black Hills of Dakota, which was on. a min- 
ing boom. Drawing our pay we rode into Wichi- 
ta, I being mounted on sl race pony. Whisky Pete, 
which I had lately purchased. 

In Wichita we ''whooped her up Liza- Jane" for 
a couple of days and nights and found ourselves 
broke. Then we gave up the Black Hills trip and 
started for the Medicine river, 100 miles west, to 
hunt a winter's job. 

In Kiowa Collier secured a job, while I drifted 
down the river to where it empties into the Salt 
Fork of the Arkansas. Here Maj. Drum had a 
large cattle ranch and I figured on getting a job 
there, but failed. 

I met Maj. Drum, whose hair was then turning 
white with old age, and strange to relate, he is' still 
living and has become a millionaire. He has of- 
fices in the Stock Exchange at Kansas City, Mis- 
souri, and looks after his money loaning business 
with the vim of a young man. No doubt he is near- 
ing the century mark. 

I finally secured a month's job to help move the 
Johnson herd of cattle down into the Indian ' ' Na- 
tion". 

We established the winter camp on the Eagle 
Chief Creek, a tributary to the Cimarron Eiver. 



56 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Before reaching there a severe snow storm and 
blizzard struck us, and I suffered greatly, stand- 
ing night guard clad in summer clothes. The oth- 
er boys had prepared themselves for winter. I 
didn't even have over-shoes or an over-coat. 

Up to that time cattle had never been wintered 
in that part of the ''Nation" on account of the 
danger from Indians. Mr. Johnson was called 
foolish for taking the risk. 

After drawing my month's jDay from the boss, 
Mr. Hudson, I spent a few weeks trapping, etc. I 
had built a dougout about a mile from the John- 
son camp. One snowy day part of the Johnson 
herd drifted over the roof of my castle. One steer 
fell through, missing me by a foot. I came very 
near roasting before the blazing fire in the fire- 
place. Finally I got a chance to crawl under the 
steer's flanks and make my escape. Then I swore 
off trapping, leaving my pelts behind. I started 
for Kiowa, Kansas, next morning, and about three 
o'clock in the evening the raging blizzard became 
so cold I concluded to head for a warmer climate. 

I had been facing the north wind. Now my 
course was turned to the southeast, down the 
Eagle Chief Creek. 

After dark camp was pitched, but I went to 
sleep on my saddle blankets with an empty stom- 
ach, as I had brought no grub along, thinking I 
would reach the Drum ranch that night. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 57 

Now my route lay down the Cimarron river 
through sand hills and blackjack timber. 

During the all-day ride many deer and turkey 
were seen, but I was afraid to shoot off my pistol 
for fear of attracting Indians — there being fresh 
moccasin tracks everywhere. 

That evening a jack-rabbit was killed with a 
club when he hid in a bunch of tall grass. He went 
into my stomach for filling that night. 

Early next morning while absent from my 
camp-fire to get a cup of snow from a drift a- 
gainst a high sand-hill, to be melted for drinking 
water, the tall grass around my camp caught fire. 
I had a swift job on my hands to save Whiskey 
Pete and my saddle. My Leather leggins and slick- 
er were burnt to a crisp. Only a small piece of sad- 
dle blanket was saved. 

That night I had to sleep without even a saddle 
blanket to cover with, nor did I have fire to warm 
by, as my match box had burnt up with my slicker. 

I hadn't gone far next morning when, a fresh 
Indian camp, just vacated, was struck. After 
warming by the fire I continued down the river, 
knowing that I would soon strike the Chilsolm 
cattle trail. It was struck during the evening, and 
I turned south on it. About five miles ahead of 
me was the band of Indians whose signs had been 
seen all along my route. 

That night I camped with a government freight- 
ing outfit. They informed me that the fifty iviowa 



58 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Indians who had just passed were returning to 
their reservation from a hunting trip, 

I slept with ''Long Mike" that night, and next 
morning he proved his Irish generosity by pre- 
senting me with a pair of pants and a blue soldiers 
overcoat. 

The next evening I rode into Darlington — the 
Cheyenne Indian Agency — on the North Canadian 
Eiver. Across the river stood Fort Reno, filled 
with United State soldiers. 

Since leaving Kiowa, Kansas, I had not seen a 
house. Now, after more than forty years have 
passed, you can imagine the number of fine hous- 
es that would be passed in going over the same 
route. A "fool hoe-man's" dwelling now stands 
on nearly every quarter section of land in that 
part of Oklahoma. 

After supper in Darlington, one of the clerks 
in the store accompanied me a mile up the river 
to an Indian camp, where they were having war 
dances in preparation for their big medicine dance 
soon to take place. It was a sight to me — half- 
naked Indians covered with beads and feathers 
cutting up all kinds of monkey-shines. 

Every spring the Cheyennes held their big med- 
icince doings up the river to test the grit of their 
young bucks, who hoped some day to become ' ' Big- 
chiefs. ' ' 

Slits were cut thru the flesh of each side of the 
l)reast. Now the would-be chief was hoisted upon 



A LONE STAR COWBOY --.9 

a tall pole. If lie succeeded in tearing the flesh 
loose so as to fall to the ground he was considered 
"good medicine," and fit for a future chief. Other- 
wise he was branded as "bad medicine." Those 
who had the grit to tear themselves lose took great 
pride in showing the ragged scars as proof of 
their "good medicine". The Government finally 
put a stop to the cru,elty. 

After leaving the Cheyenne Agency I continued 
south on the Chisholm trail to the Wacliita. Then 
my route was changed to the east, down that river. 

I rode into Erin Springs — the home of a weal- 
thy squaw-man by the name of Frank Murray — 
late one evening. The woods were full of Chica- 
saw Indians, and tough squaw-men, who had come 
to attend a big dance at Frank Murray s. 

Whiskey was plentiful, being sold by Bill Ander- 
son against the law. This Bill Anderson had 
served with Quantrell's band of confederate sol- 
diers, and had since become an outlaw. 

I joined the gay mob and danced with half-breed 
Indian maidens until daylight. 

This I consider the wind-up of a foolish cow- 
boy's first trip "up the Chisholm trail". 



6a A LONE STAR COWBOY 

CHAPTER IV. 

CAPTURING A BAND OF MEXICAN 
THIEVES. 

A HERD OF BUFFALO LEAPS OVER MY 
HEAD. CHASED BY A WOUNDED 
BUFFALO BULL. 

From Erin Springs I continued down the river 
to Pauls Valley — one of the richest spots on earth. 
Here it was no trick to raise from one hundred 
to one hundred and twenty-five bushels of corn to 
the acre, this corn sold for only ten cents a bushel. 
This brought many feeders to the valley to fatten 
f^teers for the market. Henry Childs and the 
Mitchells were the largest feeders in the valley. 

Old Smith Paul, who was then ninety-two years 
x)i age, had been adopted by the Indians when a 
boy. When he grew to manhood he married an 
Indian girl and raised a brood of half-breeds. 
One of his sons was shot and killed years after- 
wards in Ardmore, Oklahoma, by his own son. 

Smith Paul owned most of this large valley, as 
he had it under fence. According to the law and 
custom, any Chicasaw Indian, or squaw-man, held 
title to all the land that he was able to keep under 
fence — so that he didn 't get nearer than a quarter 
of a mile of any one else 's fence. 

Most of this rich, black land he rented out to 
white farmers, who raised corn. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 61 

In the early spring of 1877, while I was in the 
valley, this husky old man married a sixteen year 
old Texas girl. I was told that they had three 
children before he died. 

Here I spent the winter breaking wild ponies 
at two dollars and fifty cents a head. My home 
was with one of the renters on Mr. Paul's land. 

While living with this renter and his splendid 
family I paid fifty dollars for one crack shot out 
of my new Smith & Wesson pistol. One of the 
boys and I were back of the house, and I was brag- 
ging of how I could knock a birds eye out every 
shot with this pistol. The boy pointed out a red- 
bird sitting on a limb, in a clump of bushes say- 
ing: ''Let me see you knock his eye out". 

The eye went with the bird's head when I fired. 
The shot killed one of the renters fine work horses 
standing concealed further on. I was let off by 
paying fifty dollars, half the animal's value. Dur- 
ing the winter a pretty little half-breed girl got 
me "plum locoed," and I came within an ace of 
marrying her. All that prevented was the fear 
that being a squaw-man might ruin my chance of 
becoming president of these glorious United 
States. My school books had taught me that every 
boy has an equal chance of becoming president. 

In the late spring I drifted to Tishamingo, the 
capital of the Choctaw Nation — thence to Deni- 
son, Texas, and west to St. Joe, on the Chisholm 
trail. 



62 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Here, in May, I secured a job with one of the 
north-bound herds of longhorns owned by Capt. 
(leorge Littk^field, of Austin, Texas. 

This herd consisted of 3,500 head of mixed 
cattle. One of Mr. George Littlefield's nephews, 
Plielps White, now a millionaire stockman of Eos- 
well, New Mexico, was one of the cowboys. 

In Passing through the Indian "Nation" we 
experienced many hardships in swimming swol- 
len rivers. Dudley Pannell — later shot and killed 
in Tascosa, Texas, — and I were the champion 
swimmers of the outfit, and did most of the dan- 
gerous work in the water. 

The herd being made up of mixed stock-cattle 
it was a difficult matter to get them to take to the 
water. Small bunches had to be cut off from the 
main herd and shoved into the raging torrent. 
Then naked cowboys would swim on each side of 
the leaders to keep them headed towards the op- 
posite shore. 

Often when out in mid-stream the leaders would 
turn around and go to milling in a circle. Once I 
was caught in the center of the milling herd, and 
to save myself from being jammed to death, I 
crawled up onto the animals backs, working my 
way from back to back until the edge of the herd 
was reached. 

Often these milling bands would drift with the 
current a mile or to down the stream before we 
could get them strung out again. To make them 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 63 

string out we would swim near the edge and 
splash water in the nearest animals' faces, at the 
same time yell and "cuss". 

When sure that the band would continue of 
their own accord, to the opposite shore, we would 
swim back after another bunch. Sometimes we 
would have to walk a mile or more up the river to 
the main herd, the swift current having taken us 
down the stream. 

In order to get the mess-wagon over these rag- 
ing streams, a log raft had to be made to float it 
over. 

On crossing the Cimarron River, at the mouth 
of Turkey Creek, we switched off from the Chis- 
Iiolm trail and headed north-west for Dodge City, 
Kansas, via the U. S. Government Post of Camp 
Supply. 

The reason for leaving the Chisholm trail was 
the fact that the "fool hoe-men" were fast set- 
tling up the grazing country west of Wichita. 

We arrived in Dodge City, Kansas, on the third 
day of July. The herd was to continue on up to 
Ogallaly, Nebraska, and possible further north to 
Miles City Montana — both great cattle towns. 

Therefore, I drew my pay and quit the job, 
to celebrate the glorious Fourth of July in the 
toughest cattle town on earth. 

This celebration came near costing me my life 
in a freeforall fight in the Lone Star dance hall, 
in charge of the now noted Bat Masterson. 



64 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The hall was jammed full of free-and-easy girls, 
long-haired buffalo hunters and wild and w^ooly 
cowboys. 

In the mix-up my cowboy chum, Wess Adams, 
was severely stabbed by a buffalo hunter. Adams 
had started the fight to show the long-haired buf- 
falo hunters that they were not in the cowboy 
class. We had previously taken our ponies out of 
the livery stable and tied them near the hall. I 
had promised Adams to stay mth him 'till Hades 
, froze up solid. 

The stab wound was in the back, under the 
shoulder blade. 

After mounting our ponies, Joe Mason, a town 
marshal, tried to arrest us, but we ran him to 
cover in an allej^, then went out of town yelling 
and shooting off our pistols. 

By daylight we had ridden eighteen miles to 
the D. T. Beals' steer camp. Towards the last I had 
to hold Adams on his horse, he had become so 
weak from loss of blood. This wound laid him 
up for two weeks. 

This incident illustrates what fools some young 
cowboys were after long drives ^'up the Chisholm 
trail", and after filling their hides full of the 
poison liquors manufactured to put red-shirted 
Irish rail-road builders to sleep, so that the toughs 
could '^roll" them, and get their ''wads". Instead 
of putting a cowboy to sleep it stirred up the devil 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 65 

ill his make-up, and made him a wide-awake 
liyena. 

At this time the Atchison, Topeka and Santa 
Fe railroad was building west from Dodge City, 
which filled the town full of cut-throats and bums, 
who follow up new railroads. 

The town was also the outfitting center for buf- 
falo hunters within a radius of hundreds of miles, 
and that year of 1877 she became the great long- 
horn cattle center of the Universe, by Wichita 
losing the trail drive through the "fool hoe-men" 
settling up the cattle range to the westward. 

The citizens of Dodge City seemed proud of 
their fat grave yard in the 'Boot Hill' Cemetery, 
where there were eighty-one graves, all the occu- 
pants having died with their boots on — in other 
words killed, except one, who died a natural death. 
A fine record for a town only one year old — that 
is dating from the time she became a center for 
cattle-men, buffalo hunters and railroad crews. 

Fort Dodge, a government post, was located 
only five miles distant, and the soldier boys added 
merriment, as well as devilment to the little year- 
ling city. 

Other Kansas towns which attained distinction 
as cattle shipping points, were Elsworth, Abilene, 
Ellis, Great Bend, Hutchison, Nickerson, Newton, 
Caldwell and Coolidge. The latter, being on the 
western edge of the state, became a wild and wooly 



66 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

town in the early '80s, when the "fool hoe-men" 
had settled up the country around Dodge City. 

Abilene, Ellis and Caldwell took the lead in 
Ijurying hilarious cowboys with their boots on. 

Hunnewell, Garden City and Kingman won 
some distinction as cattle towns — and so did Med- 
icine Lodge and Kiowa in later years. 

The first long-horn cattle were driven north in 
the late '60s to Baxter Springs and Abilene, be- 
fore Wichita became a town. 

It was in Abilene that Joe McCoy shipped his 
first car-load of buffalos. 

During the '70s Miles City, Montana, Cheyenne, 
Wyoming, Ogalally and Sidney, Nebraska, were 
wild and wooly cattle centers. From these places 
large herds were driven to the open ranges, where 
new ranches were established. Most of these new 
ranches began improving the long-horn cattle In- 
introducing short-horn males. 

One of these new ranches afterwards became 
noted as the Two-bar 70 ranch. It was located on 
Snake Eiver, near Soda Springs, Idaho. 

A wealthy citizen, by the name of Wm. E. 
Hawks, of Bennington, Vermont, established the 
ranch, and put his young son, Wm. E. Hawks, Jr., 
in charge. 

Now, after the passing of over a quarter of a 
century, this man Wm. E. Hawks, Jr., has become 
the collector of the greatest store of cowboy liter- 
ature and paraphenalia in the whole United 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 67 

States. At his fine home in Bennington, Vt., he 
has Avhat he proudly calls his ' ' Two-bar 70 Te- 
pee," where these relics are displayed. 

In Bennington Mr. Hawks is known as the Mil- 
lionaire Cowboy. He attracts much attention when 
riding his favorite cow-pony through the streets, 
wearing his cowboy sombrero, goat-skin leggins, 
etc. 

Soon after the Fourth of July I secured a job 
with the David T. Beals outfit to drive a herd of 
young steers to the Pan-handle of Texas, where 
a new ranch was to be established. 

Bill Allen, of Corpus Christi, Texas, was the 
boss, and Owl-head Johnson was the cook, and 
driver of the mess-wagon. 

'vDeacon" Bates one of Mr. Beal's partners, a 
dyed-in-the-wool Yankee, accompanied us for the 
purpose of selecting the new range. 

After crossing the Cimarron River into No- 
mans-land — now a part of the State of Oklaho- 
ma — we saw our first herd of buffalos grazing a 
few miles to the southward. 

Mr. Bates selected me to ride on ahead with 
him and get some fresh buffalo meat. 

When within a mile of the herd, the ponies were 
tied in a gulch. Then we walked afoot out on the 
open flat, straight towards the wooly animals. 
When within about one hundred yards of them we 
raised our Sharps 45 caliber rifles and fired. Two 
young animals, a bull and a heifer, dropped over 



68 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

dead. Now the whole herd began bawling and mil- 
ling around the fallen beasts. 

I became frightened and wanted to run back 
to my pony, but Mr. Bates, who had ranched at 
Granada, Colorado, said buffalos were harmless 
unless wounded, when they became vicious. 

Still I felt timid and allowed the ''Deacon" to 
walk ahead. 

On reaching the edge of the milling herd, he 
pulled off his hat and began shooing them out of 
his way. At first they seemed to pay no attention 
to him, but finally they started away on the run. 

This trait of buffalo nature made it easy for 
hunters to slaughter them by the thousands. They 
will stampede at the sight of a horseman, but pay 
no attention to a man afoot. 

A day or two later I roped my first buffalo. 
We had pitched camp for the night when a herd 
of the wooly animals ran past the camp, headed 
west. 

I had just ridden out a few hundred yards to 
turn back some steers which were going into the 
sand hills. 

At a break-neck pace I took after the fleeing 
buffalos, not realizing that my pistol and bowie- 
knife lay on the ground in camp, until after I had 
overtaken the rear end of the herd. 

Now down came my lasso and an eight months 
old heifer was roped by the neck. The bawling of 
the calf brought the mother cow on the run. She 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 69 

made a dive for my pony. The thirty foot rope 
was tied hard and fast to my saddle horn, so that 
the rope couldn't be turned loose. By "socking" 
spurs to the pony I managed to drag the calf and 
keep out of the cows reach. She soon scampered 
off after the fleeing herd. 

By this time I was many miles from camp, and 
it was getting dark. 

I tried to throw the calf hard enough, so that 
she would lie still until I could reach her on foot. 
But the instant she struck the ground on her side 
she would be on her feet again. 

Finally becoming angrj^ I dismounted and 
went at her with all the strength in my make-up. 
She was soon hog-tied with my silk sash. 

Now with a dull pocket knife I cut the throat 
and peeled her hide off. Then I tied a chunk of 
meat to my saddle and rode towards camp. It was 
now pitch dark. 

After going east about a mile I concluded to 
ride south in hopes of finding a stream of water, 
as the pony and I were thirsty. The streams in 
that country all run from the west to the east- 
ward — hence my hopes of finding water. 

About three o'clock in the morning, while 
sound asleep on my saddle blankets, with the 
saddle for a pillow, a herd of stampeded buffalos 
came running by, a few hundred yards to the west- 
ward. The loud roar and the shaking of the 
ground frightened my mount and I was dragged 



70 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

quite a distance, the end of the hackamore rope 
liaving been wrapped around my body on lyinc: 
down. 

There I was left afoot on the prairie, and dy- 
in,i>' for a drink of water, but thanks to kind pro- 
A'idoiiee I soon heard a faint snort off to the east- 
ward. The pony had stopped, and I was happy af- 
ter mounting, and was headed towards the south- 
east. I knew by keeping this course we wouhl 
strike the Bascom trail, over which the herd was 
being driven. 

About ten, A. M, water was struck at the head 
of Sharps Creek, a tributary to the Beaver Eiver, 
wliich was called the North Canadian further 
down stream. 

About noon the cattle herd arrived on Sharps 
Creek, and camp was pitched. The outfit had 
traveled about fifteen miles from where I left 
them. 

We had buffalo veal mixed with flour gravy for 
dinner. The boys complimented me on my skill as 
a meat rustler, with only a lasso as a w^eapon. 

On arriving at the North Paladura Creek we 
saw the first house since leaving Crooked Creek, 
twenty-five miles south of Dodge City, this being 
a buffalo hunters trading store. 

Now that country along the old Fort Bascom 
trail is thickly populated with "fool hoe-men", 
and towns have also sprung into existence, Dia- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 71 

mond being one of them, with a population of 
three or four thousand. 

When within fifty miles of the Canadian River, 
camp was established until "Deacon" Bates and 
I could locate a range large enough for 50,000 
cattle. 

We started early one morning with a pack 
horse loaded with grub and bedding. 

On the north bank of the South Canadian River 
we landed in Tascosa, which contained half a 
dozen Mexican families, and a store owned by 
Howard and Rinehart. At this store liquor was 
also sold. 

From here we rode down the river twenty-five 
miles, to the mouth of Pitcher Creek, where a Mr. 
Pitcher kept a buffalo-hunters trading-store. 
Across the river about 300 wild Apache Indians 
were camped, they being from Arizona on a buf- 
falo hunt. 

Now Mr. Bates and I put in a week riding down 
the river, nearly to Adobe Walls, where Tom 
Bugsby had established a cattle ranch the year 
previous, and south to the foot of the great Llano 
Estacado. 

Finally Mr. Bates selected the site for the 
home ranch on a little creek about a mile east of 
Pitcher Creek. This to be the center of the fu- 
ture LX cattle range, which was to extend twenty 
miles up the river and the same distance 
down the stream, and twenty miles south to the 



72 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

foot of the Llano Estacado (Staked Plains), also 
twenty miles north to the foot of what was called 
the North Staked Plans. This constituted a free 
range forty miles square. 

On our travels we had not seen a cow brute, and 
the grass was fine. Although thousands of buf- 
falo were roaming over this range, also deer and 
antelopes by the hundreds. Hence we never ran 
short of wild meat to eat. 

Finally we returned to the herd and moved it 
to the site of the home ranch, where the cattle 
were turned loose to fatten on the fine buffalo- 
grass. 

Now Mr. Bates went to Granada, Colorado, to 
over-see the moving of their thousands of well- 
bred, shorthorn cattle to this new Panhandle 
ranch. 

Mr. David T. Beals and Erskine Clement — 
one of Mr. Beals partners — were kept busy in 
Dodge City, Kansas, buying long-horn steers to 
put on this new range. 

By the time snow began to fall this grassy LX 
range contained thousands upon thousands of 
cattle. 

Above Tascosa a Mr. Goodrich had a small cat- 
tle ranch, and down the river twenty-five to fifty 
miles Tom Bugsby and Hank Creswell controll- 
ed the range. South of us there was not a cow- 
brute until reaching the Paladuro Canyon (head 
of Red River), a distance of about fifty miles, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 73 

where Cattle King Charlie Goodnight, had estab- 
lished a large cattle ranch the year previous. 

Mr. Goodnight had the pick of the whole coun- 
try when his ranch was selected. Nature had fenc- 
ed his range down in the Paladuro Canyon. The 
valley down in the canyon being from one to five 
miles wide and about thirty miles in length, with 
walls on each side hundreds of feet high. There 
was only one place in the canyon where cattle 
could climb out, and a few rods of stone fencing 
fixed this. At the head of the canyon there was 
an abrupt wall. At its mouth Mr. Goodnight es- 
tablished his home ranch. 

In the early winter Mr. Phelps White arrived 
with a herd of long-horns and established the L 
I T ranch above Tascosa. These cattle, and others 
which came later, were owned by Mr. White 's un- 
cle, Capt. Geo. Littlefield, the wealthy banker of 
Austin, Texas. 

During the winter Lee & Reynolds established 
the L S ranch near Tascosa. Also Jim Kennedy— 
a son of the cattle king, of southern Texas — 
Drought in a herd of steers and turned them 
loose above Tascosa. 

In the late fall Nick Chaffin — now a respect- 
ed citizen of Las Vegas, New Mexico — establish- 
ed the Pollard ranch on lower Blue Creek, at the 
northeast edge of the LX range. 

Early in the winter I started out alone down the 
Canadian River in searcli of some lost steers. I 



74 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

stopped at Adobe Walls to view the ruins of that 
noted place, where, in 1874, fourteen buffalo hun- 
ters — the notorious Bat Masterson being one of 
them — stood off a large band of Comanche In- 
dians, killing hundreds of them with their long- 
range buffalo guns, for several days, until the 
United States soldiers arrived. Skulls and bones 
of dead Indians still lay on the ground near this 
old stockade. 

On this trip I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. 
and J\lrs. Thomas Bugsby at their home ranch 
near Adobe Walls. I was told the history of their 
courtship, which sounds like a dime novel story. 

In the fall of 1876 Mr. Bugsby was driving- 
through Kansas with a small herd of fine blooded 
short-horn cattle, in search of a free range. 

In pitching camp one day, near a farm house, 
he discovered that they had lost their axe. He 
walked to the farm house to borrow one. The 
farmers young daughter brought him the axe, and 
at the same time, from her bright eyes, shot his 
system full of Cupid's little arrows. 

The next morning when Mr. Bugsby returned 
the axe, he proposed marriage to this handsome 
young lady, and after papa and mamma were 
consulted, the deal was made. 

A Justice of the Peace tied the knot, and then 
the journey to the wild Panhandle of Texas was 
continued, with a new girl cook to dish up the 
grub. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 75 

A year or so later a girl baby was bom — the 
only white child in that part of the country. She 
was called the "white papoose" by the Indians. 
But when about eight years old, she — an 
only child — met a horrible death from the bite 
of a mad skunk. 

Further down the river I stopped at the Cress- 
well cattle ranch, and formed the acquaintance of 
Cattle King Hank Cresswell, and his foreman, 
Tom McGee, the afterwards sheriff who was mur- 
dered by express robbers at Higgins, Texas. 

From there I rode to Ft. Elliot, a Government 
Post, where the noted man-killer, Clay Allison, 
had just proved his bravery. 

At the Suttler 's Store he was making things un- 
comfortable for some of the officers and clerks. 
He was on one of his periodical drunks, and no 
one could do anything with him. Finally the com- 
manding officer was sent for to have Clay put out 
of the store. 

This commanding officer was swollen to the 
bursting point with West Point dignity. Walking 
up to Clay he pointed a pistol in his face and de- 
manded that he leave the store at once, and never 
return. 

Allison looked him in the face and called him 
all the hard names imaginable. He told him that 
he was a coward, and didn't have the nerve to 
shoot. Then he gave him one minute to put up 
his gun or he would fill him full of lead. 



76 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The officer put up his gun and walked out of 
the store, pale and trembling, at least this was 
the story told to me. 

Clay Allison had already killed eighteen men, 
some of them at Cimarron, New Mexico. 

At a restaurant in Cimarron he sat down at the 
same table with a bitter enemy by the name of 
"Chunk." When the waiter called for his order 
he said : ' ' Give us hot coffee and pistols for two. ' ' 
This meant war, and "Chunk" drew his pistol, 
but too late, as Clay had put in the first shot, 
which was fatal. 

In later years a dentist in Pueblo, Colorado 
learned that Clay Allison was a dangerous man to 
monkey with — although he didn't know it in time. 

Allison had an aching tooth and stepped into 
the dentist's office to have it pulled. Seating 
himself in the chair the dentist began fumbling 
with what he supposed was the aching tooth, as it 
had a large cavity. Shoving the dentist's hand 
aside Clay told him that he was fooling with the 
wrong tooth. 

This angered the dentist and he told him to 
keep quiet — that he knew his business, and didn't 
need any advice. "Alright," answered Clay, "If 
you know your business go ahead, but don't you 
pull the wrong tooth." 

The molar was jerked out, but the aching one 
continued to do business. 

Now Clav struck Mr. dentist across the head 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 77 

with his heavy Colts pistol, which "floored" him. 
Then getting the forceps he pulled every tooth 
out of the front part of this tooth-doctor's upper 
jaw. The Colorado papers came out with the ac- 
count of it later. 

At this time Clay Allison had a small cattle 
ranch on Gagsby Creek, a tributary of the Wach- 
ita River. 

From Ft. Elliot I rode down Sweet-water Creek, 
five miles, to the "wild-and-wooly" town of 
Sweet-water. Here there were two large outfitting 
stores, run by McCamy and a Mr. Weed, also sev- 
eral saloons and dance-halls. She was a lively 
place at night when the cowboys and buffalo- 
hunters turned themselves loose. 
^ During my two days stay in Sweetwater I be- 
came chummy with a saloon proprietor, who 
showed me the fine, silver plated, ivory-handled 
Colts, 45 caliber pistol, willed to him a short time 
previous by the noted horse-thief, "Chubby" 
Jones. The story of "Chubby" Jones' death, was 
also told to me by this saloon keeper, and others 
in the town. I was already familiar with the his- 
tory of "Chubby" Jones and his boss, "Dutch 
Henry," whose right name was Henry Born. All 
cowboys in the Indian "Nation," and the Texas 
Panhandle, knew of these two noted characters. 

It was claimed that "Dutch Henry" was at the 
head of 300 horse-thieves who operated between 
^'enita, Indian Territory, and Pueblo, Colorado. 



78 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The bands who stole horses in the "Nation" 
would meet a band with stolen horses from Colo- 
rado, at some point in No Mans Land, and swap 
herds — the Colorado thieves returning to that 
state, and the others back to "The Nation." 

The undoing of "Chubby" Jones, as told to me, 
happened as follows : 

A company of soldiers from Ft. Elliot rounded 
up "Chubby" and eight of his gang, on lower 
Sweetwater Creek. In the fight the army captain 
was shot through the stomach. This angered the 
soldiers who hung the nine thieves to a tree that 
night. 

When they started to string up "Chubby" 
Jones he asked, as a last request that his pistol 
be given to the above saloon keeper, which request 
was promised and carried out. 

Later I saw a newspaper account of "Dutch 
Henry" being in jail at Pueblo, Colorado, for 
stealing ten Government mules. Many years later 
he settled down as a respectable citizen of Sum- 
mitville, Colorado, where he still resides, accord- 
ing to my latest information. 

The hanging of "Chubby" Jones, and his eight 
followers, and the capture of "Dutch Henry," 
broke up the worst gang of horse-thieves in the 
west. 

About the summer of 1878 the town of Sweet- 
water died a natural death. The toAvn of Mobeta, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 79 

near Ft. Elliot, sprang into existance and killed 
Sweetwater. 

Now the county of Wheeler was organized, and 
Mobeta became the county-seat — with jurisdiction 
over all the un-organized counties to the west- 
ward, to the New Mexico line. 

A ride of 80 miles brought me back to the LX 
ranch with a small bunch of lost steers. 

I found a new boss in charge of the ranch, Mr. 
Allen having returned to his home in Corpus 
Christi, and an outlaw by the name of Wm. G. 
Moore had taken liis place. 

This man Moore, up to a short time previous, 
liad been the manager of the large Swan Cattle 
Company, of Cheyenne, Wyoming. He had just 
shot and killed his negro coachman, and made his 
get-away from the law officers in Wyoming, land- 
ing at the LX ranch on a broken down pony. Pre- 
vious to this he had shot and killed his brother-in- 
law in the state of California, which brought him 
to Cheyenne, Wyoming, to begin life anew. 

Bill Moore was a natural leader of men, and one 
of the best cow-men in the west. He could get more 
work out of a gang of cowboys than any man I 
ever knew. But while working so hard for the LX 
outfit he was feathering nis own nest by stealing 
from them. He soon started a brand of his own, 
and established a ranch at Coldwater Springs, in 
No Mans Land. He had two of the LX cowboys in 
with him on these steals, and they tried to induce 



80 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

me to join them, but I refused, as it was against 
my principle to steal from my employers. 

A few years later Moore sold his ranch and cat- 
tle for $70,000. Then he quit the LX outfit, and 
with this money established a cattle ranch in the 
American Valley, of western New Mexico. His 
stay in the American Valley was short, as he shot 
and killed two men, which placed a large reward 
on his head. 

Many years later, as a detective, peddling whis- 
key among the Chilcat and Chieke Indians in the 
wilds of Alaska, I met Bill Moore going under an 
assumed name. At that time I w^as a detective run- 
ning down two thieves who had stolen $10,000 
worth of gold from the great Treadwell, Alaska, 
Mining Company. 

On this trip I was mounted on the hurricane 
deck of a 40 foot Indian canoe, painted with all the 
colors of the rainbow. The gold was recovered, 
and the two thieves sent to tlie penitentiary. 

After returning from Ft. Elliot a 3'oung Texan 
by the name of John Roberson and I were put in 
a camp on the head of Amarillo Creek, at the foot 
of the Llano Estacado, about fifteen miles south 
of the home ranch. Our duty was to prevent cat- 
tle from drifting onto the Staked Plains. The 
cattle were in the habit of following bands of buf- 
falo south, onto the plains, and we experienced 
much hardship in cutting them off from the run- 
ning buffalo herds. The cattle couldn't run fast 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 81 

enough to keep up with the wooly beasts, but they 
would stay on their trail until turned back. 

The company furnished us with free ammuni- 
tion to shoot into these roving bands of buffalos, 
in order to keep them off the range. 

Soon after locating our camp on Amarillo Creek 
the main herd of buffalos migrating from the 
north, passed a mile west of us. For three days 
and nights there was a solid string of them from 
a quarter to a half mile wide — sometimes in a 
walk and at other times on the run. 

During daylight we could look to the north- 
ward, across the Canadian River breaks, a dis- 
tance of about thirty miles, and see this black 
streak of living flesh coming down off the north 
plains. Their route was doA\Ti Pitcher creek, a mile 
west of our home ranch. 

The next morning after this great string of 
wooly animals had crossed the Canadian River 
breaks, I trailed a bunch of cattle south onto the 
plains. It was an easy matter to distinguish the 
cattle tracks from those made by buffalos. The 
former are sharp pointed while the latter are 
round pointed. 

The cattle were found with the buffalo at 
Amarillo Lake — where the thriving little city of 
Amarillo, Texas, is now located. 

I found the whole Llano Estacado one solid 
black mass of buffalo — just as far as the eye could 
reach, to the eastward, southward and westward. 



82 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The great herd had scattered out to graze on the 
thickly matted buffalo-grass, nearly a foot high. 
There must have been a million of the wooly 
beasts. 

Shortly after this Mr. Moore had me accom- 
pany him to the head of Paladura Canyon, so as to 
learn the country. 

Here I saw my first expert lancing of buffalo, 
by Apache Indians on swift buffalo horses. I ac- 
companied a band of these reds out to a grazing 
herd, about 50,000 in number. 

When within a mile of the herd the Indian chief 
lined us all up abreast — that is side by side — 
close together. This being done to fool the buf- 
falo — as they would have stampeded at the sight 
of horse-men. 

They paid no attention to us until we were 
within a few hundred yards of them. Then they 
began to bunch up. Now we made a charge as fast 
as the horses could run. This started a stampede, 
and the lancing began at the rear end of the herd. 

Steel and stone lances were attached to long 
poles. The lance was driven into a buffalos loin, 
and down he would go, helpless, but not killed. 

Some of the Indians on the swiftest horses 
were almost in the center of the herd, lancing one 
buffalo after another as they ran. 

I did nothing but watch them at their expert 
work. Just ahead of me a buck on a yellow horse 
reached over to the right to bury the sharp lance 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 83 

into a buffalos loin when his weight on the 
slender wooden handle, about fourteen feet long, 
snapped it in two, and down went Mr. ^'Ingin" 
rolling in the grass. Buffalos were dodging all 
around him. When he sprang to his feet a cow 
jumped over his head and knocked him down. 
Then he sat still until the rear end of the heard 
had passed. While sitting there some of the 
beasts jumped over him. 

At the wind-up of this free show I shot a buf- 
falo and tied his hump-loins to my saddle for 
supper. 

For a mile or two back, the plain was covered 
with hundreds of buffalos trying to rise to their 
feet. Soon the hundreds of old bucks, squaws and 
children arrived and butchered these struggling 
animals for their hides and meat. 

About Christmas we had an exciting chase after 
thieves. Moore had sent a runner from the home 
ranch after Roberson and me to help round up 8 
Mexicans who had robbed Mr. Pitcher of every- 
tliing he had. They had loaded all of his store 
goods into large freight wagons and headed 
across the plains in a southwesterly direction. 

We, nine of us, rode night and day until they 
were overtaken near the line of New Mexico. 

For a while they stood us off with their long- 
range buffalo guns. 

Finally Moore sent Jack Ryan to their barri- 
caded wagons, under a flag of truce. They agreed 



84 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

to haul the stuff back and turn it over to Mr. 
Pitcher, who was one of the pursuing party, on 
our promise not to harm them. 

This was agreed to, and we all started hack to- 
wards Pitcher Creek. It had been promised that 
they could retain their fire-arms, but while camp- 
ed for dinner we got the drop on them and took 
away their arms. 

Now it Avas proposed to hang them all to a big 
Cottonwood tree in the head of the gulch, where 
we were camped. But Dudley Pannel and I 
^protested that this would be cowardly after giving 
our words of honor that thev would not be harm- 
ed. 

As Pannel and I were well thought of, Mr. 
Moore decided in our favor, and several lives were 
saved. 

Now Roberson and I returned to our camp at 
the foot of the South Plains. 

One morning I found cattle tracks among those 
of a large band of buffalos. I went on their trail 
in a gallop on my blue pony. The trail continued 
up onto the plains past Amarillo Lake. 

A ride of about twenty miles brought me in 
sight of the buffalo herd, about 50,000 in number. 
On reaching within a mile of them they stampeded 
towards the southwest. Now my misery began, 
trying to separate the dozen or more cattle from 
them. 

It was almost night when my mount gave com- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 85 

pletelj^ out and could hardly trot. Then I turned 
back towards cami^, in a slow walk, for a night 
ride. 

Just as the sun was getting ready to go to 
roost I saw a band of Indians coming towards me 
from the west, on the run. Their steel lances were 
glistening in the sun. 

I thought of running, as they might be on the 
war-path, but despite the spurring, my mount 
couldn't be made to gallup. 

Now my Winchester rifle and Colts 45 caliber 
pistol were examined to see if they were in trim 
for war. 

When they galloped up to me I was standing- 
facing them, with the rifle raised for action. The 
leader passed the time of day in the Mexican 
tongue, which I understood. Then he made inquiry 
as to whether I had seen any buffalo. Of course I 
told him about the herd which I had just left. 

Seeing that my mount was played out this 
Apache chief invited me to go with them to their 
camp, a few miles west. The invitation was accept- 
ed, as I was hungrier than a wolf. 

After filling up in this Indian camp I went to 
sleep in a tepee, filled with squaws and papooses. 

By the latter part of January the buffalo had 
all gone south, with the exception of a few strag- 
gling bands. One of these bands, about one hun- 
dred head, made me think of the hereafter on the 



86 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

other side of the great divide, where Saint Peter 
lives. 

Being out of meat, and seeing this band grazing 
at the head of a gulch, about a mile distant, I con- 
cluded to get some buffalo humps. 

In order to make sure of fresh meat I kept out 
of sight, by riding in the bed of the gulch. 

When within a few hundred yards of the graz- 
ing band the pony was left with the bridle-reins 
hanging on the ground, to prevent him running 
away. 

Continuing the journey up the arroyo afoot, I 
came to the extreme head of it, a steep embank- 
ment. Now standing on my tip-toes a grassy valley 
spread out before my eyes, and over its surface 
grazed the contented animals, all but one old bull, 
lying down chewing the cud of contentment, with- 
in twenty or thirty feet of my nose. 

This being the only animal within sure gun-shot 
I concluded to make a death shot on him. Then 
the rifle barrel was raised gently up onto the level 
ground. But I was not tall enough, even by stand- 
ing on my tip-toes, to keep the rifle butt pressed 
to my shoulder, and at the same time bring the 
sight down on the sleeping bull. Hence the rifle 
was fired off-hand like a pistol. 

Aim was taken under the hump, where the 
bullet strikes the lights, and causes death. 

At the crack of the gun the bull was on his feet 
and jumping towards me. Ducking my head down 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 87 

he leaped over me and fell dying in the bed of 
the gulch, at my feet. I sweated blood through fear 
that he might regain his feet and discover me. 

Now peeping over the edge of tlie embankment 
I discovered the whole band almost upon me. I 
squatted down and they leaped over my head onto 
the dying and struggling bull. In looking upward 
all I could see was flying buffalos. The dirt bank 
caved in around me, through some of the animals 
getting too near the edge before making the leap 
for the bottom of the arroyo. 

I felt relieved when the last ones went over me, 
and went running down the gulch. 

No doubt this old bull was their leader, and see- 
ing him, at the crack of the gun, go over this em- 
bankment they followed. 

After getting the loose dirt out of my clothes, 
the hump-loins were cut out of the dead bull, and 
a start made for camp. My pony had stampeded 
on seeing the narrow gulch filled with wooly 
beasts running towards him. He was found 
trembling with fright about a quarter of a mile 
from where I had left him. 

Soon after this I had a different kind of buffalo 
experience. 

Seeing a lone bull grazing on a flat I rode to a 
round knoll, which hid me from his view. When 
within about one hundred yards of the small hill I 
left the pinto pony, with the bridle-reins hanging 
on the ground. Then crawling to the top of the 



88 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

knoll I fired a bullet from my Winchester rifle at 
the bull. He dropped to the ground, and I foolish- 
ly stood up. 

In an instant the bull jumped to his feet with 
one front leg as limber as a rag. The bullet had 
hit him in the shoulder. 

He saw me while standing in plain view, a dis- 
tance of about one hundred and fifty yards. Here 
he came for me Avitli his front leg dangling at his 
side. The broken leg seemed to have no effect 
upon his speed. 

Instead of pumping more lead into him, as the 
lamented "Teddy" Roosevelt would have done, I 
started for my mount on the run. The rifle went 
up in the air when I started. It was a case of my 
legs running away with me. 

Once I looked back. That was enough, the bull 
was coming down the knoll not fifty yards behind 
me. My hair raising on end threw my sombrero 
off my head. 

My greatest fear was that ''Pinto" would be- 
come frightened and ran before I could leap into 
the saddle. But he stood still until I could make 
the leap — then he wheeled around and was off 
like a bullet, just in time to save my bacon. 
The bull's horns raked some of the hide off his 
rump before he could get out of reach. As I 
sprang into the saddle the bridle-reins wei-<' 
grabbed with mv left hand. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 89 

Now I rode around to my rifle and Mr. Bull was 
killed, and his hump-loins taken to camp. 

That night "Pinto" received a double feed of 
corn for saving my life. 

CHAPTER V. 

A TEIP TO CHICAGO AS COW-PUNCHER. 

MY FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH 
OUTLAW "BILLY THE KID." 

Towards spring Mr. Moore put a cowboy in 
my place, to camp with Roberson, and I was sent 
out with a scouting outfit to drift over the South 
Staked Plains in search of stray cattle. Our out- 
fit consisted of a cook. Owl-head Johnson, and 
three riders, Jack Ryan, Van Duzen and myself. 
After starting on this trip we experienced a touch 
of hardship. Camp was pitched after dark one 
evening on the edge of a "dry" lake, or basin. 
Enough buffalo-chips were gathered to cook sup- 
per. 

After retiring under our tarpaulins, spread 
over the beds on the ground, a severe snow- 
storm sprang up. B}-^ daylight our beds were 
covered with a foot of snow. 

Crawling out of these warm beds into the deep 
snow made it anything but pleasant. We had no 
buffalo-chips to build a fire — hence had to cut up 
the bed of the mess-wagon. 



90 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

There we were afoot on these snowy plains, as 
the pony staked out the evening before had pulled 
up the stake-pin and drifted south with the hob- 
bled ponies. They were not found until late that 
evening, about ten miles from camp. 

It was on this trij) that I saw the piles of bones 
from thousands of ponies killed by orders from 
General McKinzie. They were at the head of 
Tule Canyon, which empties into Canyon Pali- 
duro. 

It was here that General McKinzie and his 
United States soldiers rounded up the 7,000 Co- 
manche Indians, in 1874, when they broke away 
from Ft. Sill, Indian Territory, on the war-path — 
killing hundreds of white men. 

The Indian ponies were shot and killed to pre- 
vent another break on horse-back, the reds being 
made to walk back to Ft. Sill. 

One forenoon 3,000 Comanche Indians gave us a 
'' scaring up," as we didn't know whether they 
were on the war-path or not. On Mulberry Creek 
they came pouring down the hills from the east- 
ward, on a gallop. We were completelv surround- 
ed. 

The chief made inquiry about buffalos to the 
westward. They were from Ft. Sill, Indian Ter- 
ritory, on a big buffalo hunt. The chief showed us 
a letter from the commanding officer at Ft. Sill 
stating that they were peaceable, and friendly to- 
ward the white men. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 91 

Before reaching Ft. Elliot we ran into thous- 
ands of Cheyenne and Pawnee Indians on hunt- 
ing trips. 

After an absence of several weeks we arrived 
back at the LX ranch with a small bunch of steers. 

About the last of March all the cowboys were 
called in from the outside line-camps to pre- 
pare for the spring round-up. 

Mr. Moore hired every renegade outlaw and 
cowboy passing through the country for this big 
spring round-up. 

One evening before bed-time the sky became 
red from a big prairie fire off to the south-east- 
ward. 

The fire was being driven by a strong south- 
east wind, down into the Canadian River Breaks, 
from the Staked Plains. 

Now the headquarter ranch became a busy 
place. Saddle ponies were rounded up and a start 
made for the big fire, by the dozens of cowboys. 

In a swift gallop Moore led the crowd in the 
pitchy darkness, over all kinds of rough places. 

A ride of about fifteen miles brought us to the 
fire. Then we became fire-fighters in dead 
earnest. 

Large droves of cattle were running ahead of 
the fire. Some of these largest animals were 
shot and killed. 

Then the carcasses were split open. Now two 
cowboys would fasten their ropes to each hind leg 



92 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

of the dead animal, and by the saddle-horn drag- 
it to the blaze. 

If the fire was down in an arroya, where the 
blue-stem grass grows tall, it was allowed to burn 
its way onto a level flat covered with short buffalo 
grass. Here the two cowboys dragging a carcass 
would straddle the blaze — the one on the burnt 
side close up, with his rope shortened, while the 
other, on the hot smoky side, would be at the ex- 
treme end of his rope. 

Now the wet carcass was dragged slowly along 
the blaze. This would put out the fire, all but small 
spots. These being whipped out by cowboys follow- 
ing afoot with wet saddle blankets, or pieces of 
fresh cow-hide. 

A few miles of dragging in a hot blaze wou.ld 
wear a carcass into a frazzle. Then another ani- 
mal was killed to take its place. 

Without a bite to eat, except broiled beef with- 
out salt, this strenuous work was kept up until 
about three o'clock the following evening, when 
the fire was under control, and our range saved. 

We arrived back at the ranch about sun-down — 
a smoky, dirty, tired and hungry crowd. 

Soon after this fire excitement Mr. Moore lost 
nearly half of his crew of cowboys. They "hit the 
trail for tall timber," in New Mexico and Ari- 
zona — some on stolen ponies. 

The cause of this cowboy outlaw stampede was 
the arrival of E. W. Parker — now a respected 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 93 

citizen of El Paso, Texas — and his large, well 
armed crew of Government Star-route mail sur- 
veyors. But they kept their mission a secret, 
hence the boys had them spotted as Texas Ean- 
gers in disguise. 

A few months later the first mail route in the 
Panhandle of Texas was established. It ran from 
Ft. Elliot, Texas, to Las Vegas, New Mexico, a 
distance of about three hundred miles. Our home 
ranch w^as made Wheeler post-office. 

Previous to this all our mail came from Ft. 
Bascom, New Mexico, two hundred and twenty- 
five miles west, on the upper Canadian River. It 
came by private conveyance, and each letter sent, 
or received, cost us twenty-five cents — news- 
papers the same. 

By the middle of April our range was crowded 
with buffalo again. They were migrating north. 
But there was no great herd like the one going- 
south in the early winter. 

Not over half of the wooly beasts which went 
south ever returned. They had been slaughtered 
for their hides, worth one dollar each, at the south 
edge of the Llano Estacado. It Avas estimated 
that, during the winter, there were 7,000 buffalo 
hunters along the Texas Pacific Railway — then 
building west to El Paso. 

Now these buffalo w^ere going north through 
Kansas and Nebraska to their summer feeding 



94 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ground in Dakota, to be killed by the northern 
hunters. 

The following fall only a few scattering herds 
passed through the Canadian River Breaks, on 
their way south. Most of these met their doom 
that winter by the southern hunters. Thus were 
the millions of buffalo wiped from the face of the 
earth in a few 3'ears. 

About the middle of April Moore took all his 
cowboys, about twenty-five with two well filled 
mess-wagons, and went to Tascosa, there to meet 
other outfits from different parts of the country. 
Many of these cattle outfits came from the Arkan- 
sas River in southeastern Colorado, and south- 
western Kansas. 

When we pulled out of Tascosa for the upper 
Canadian River, there were dozens of mess-wag- 
ons, and hundreds of riders. 

This gerenal round-up, the first ever pulled off 
in the Texas Panhandle, started work near Ft. 
Bascom, New Mexico, and continued down the 
river almost to the Indian Territory line. 

During the winter tliousands of northern cattle 
had drifted south and lodged in the Canadian 
River Breaks. These were all driven north after 
the general round-up. 

While these round-up crews were at Tascosa, 
that little burg saw the need of saloons and dance- 
halls to relieve the wild and wooly cowboy of his 
loose change. For the supply of liquors, sardines 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 95 

and crackers in Howard & Reinliart's store melted 
away like a snow-ball would if dropped into 
Hades. 

In June, after the spring round-ups, our cattle 
were all shoved onto the summer range, on Blue 
Creek, north of the river. 

I and another cowboy were placed at the ex- 
treme head of the Blue, to ride line. Our camp 
was pitched at a spring. 

Every morning and evening I had to ride 
past a plum-thicket, which was a few miles west 
of our camp, at the edge of which lay the bodies 
of three murdered Mexican buffalo hunters. They 
were badly swollen, and the sight of them made 
me nervous. 

Strange to relate these corpses were never de- 
voured by the many lobos and coyotes around 
them. This fact convinces me that there is truth 
in the theory that wolves won't eat a dead Mexi- 
can — possibly on account of his system being im- 
pregnated with chilli, (red peppers). 

A short time previous, these three men were 
murdered by Nelson and three companions, in or- 
der to get their ox-teams to haul buffalo hides to 
Dodge City, Kansas. 

These murderers were never arrested, as there 
was no law in the country — and not a law-officer 
nearer than Ft. Elliot. 

While camped at the head of the Blue, several 



96 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

herds of ^'Jingle-bob" cattle passed near our 
camp. 

These thousands of cattle had belonged to cattle 
king John Chisum, of the Pecos River, in New 
Mexico, until Colonel Hunter, of the firm of Hun- 
ter and Evans in southern Kansas, had played a 
''Dirty Irish" trick on him. 

In the early '70s John Chisum had bought 
thousands of she cattle from the old battle-scar- 
red Confederate soldiers in middle Texas, giving 
his notes as pay. 

These cattle were driven across the Staked 
Plains to the Horse-head crossing of the Pecos 
river — thence up the river over two hundred miles 
into New Mexico, where they w^ere turned loose. 

Then Mr. Chisum introduced fine-blooded short- 
horn bulls to breed out the long horns on these 
Texas cattle. 

The notes given by Chisum for these cattle were 
finally outlawed, as they couldn't be collected in 
New Mexico. 

In the winter of 1877 and '78 Col. Hunter and 
his flowing grey beard hiked from Medicine 
Lodge, Kansas, to middle Texas and bought up 
these outlawed notes for five and ten cents on the 
dollar. 

These notes were tucked into a satchel, and in 
the early spring of '78 taken to Las Vegas, Nev/ 
Mexico, and jjlaced in a bank. 

Now Col. Hunter went overland down the Pecos 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 97 

to Soutli Spring River, where Mr. Cliisum had es- 
tablished his "Jingle-bob" headquarter ranch. 

There a deal was made for about 20,000 head 
of his picked cattle, at a fancy price. 

Now Jesse Evans, Col. Hunter's partner, went 
to Dodge City, Kansas, and hired fifty fighting 
cowboys to go to New Mexico after these cattle. 

As soon as the Chisum outfit got a herd ''put 
up" they were turned over to the Hunter and 
Evans cowboys. 

When the last herd was gathered, and headed 
north-eastward, for the line of Texas, Col. Hunter 
and John Chisum went overland to Las Vegas to 
settle up. 

Among cattle-men Col. Hunter's word was as 
good as his bond, hence Mr. Chisum had no fear 
about getting his pay. 

The curtain of this ''dirty Irish" play goes 
down when, in the bank, the old satchel was open- 
ed and Mr. Chisum was paid for the cattle in his 
own notes, with the years of accumulated interest. 

As fast as a team could travel, John Chisum 
went back to his ranch. Then he tried to make up 
a fighting crowd to follow up these Hunter and 
Evans herds, and recover them. He offered ' ' Billy 
the Kid" and his warriors big inducements to do 
the job, but they knew the Hunter and Evans 
cowboys were armed to the teeth, and being al- 
ready over the line in Texas, they declined. 

In the middle of June Mr. Moore sent for me 



98 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

to take charge of a herd of steers containing 
2500 head. I was told to take them out onto the 
south Staken Plains and fatten them. My crew 
consisted of four riders, and a cook to drive tlie 
mess-wagon, with five ponies to the man. 

Soon after this three more herds of steers were 
sent to the South Plains and I was put in chariie 
of the four herds. This made me feel of some im- 
portance. I had nothing to do but ride from one 
camp to the other — sometimes twenty miles apart 
— to see that the steers were kept on fresh range 
so as to put on fat by the time cold weather set in. 

The summer of 1878 was a wet one — hence the 
"dry" lakes, or basins, were full of rain water. 

During the summer Mr. David T. Beals paid me 
a visit. He brought a young man, Burkley Howe, 
from Massachusetts, and turned him over to me 
to be taught the cow-business. 

The first lesson I dished out to Burkley Howe 
was on mustang meat. 

I shot and killed a young mustang from a band 
of 300 head. Then a young buffalo was killed. 
Some of the meat from each animal was taken to 
camp. I instructed the cook to prepare each kind 
the same, but to have it in separate vessels. 

When we squatted down on Ihe grass to eat (mr 
supper, the cook pointed out the vessel containing 
the mustang meat, which in reality was the buf- 
falo meat. Of course the other boys had been 
posted. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 99 

Burkley Howe could not be induced to even 
taste the horse meat. Instead he filled up on the 
supposed buffalo beef, which he declared was the 
finest he had ever eaten. AVhen told of the trick, 
after supper, he was mad all over, and tried to 
vomit. This goes to show that the mind controls 
the taste. 

About the first of October 800 fat steers were 
cut out of my four herds and started for Dodge 
City, Kansas. 

The balance of the steers being turned loose on 
the winter range, along the Canadian river. 

Now I secured permission from Mr. Moore to 
overtake the fat steer herd and accompany them 
to Chicago. 

Mounted on my own pony, WMskey-Pete, I 
started in company w^ith a cowboy named John 
Farris. We kept on the Bascom trail. 

After crossing the Cimarron river we saw a 
band of about two hundred Indians, off to our 
left, in a deep arroyo, traveling westward, single 
file. Being hungry we concluded to gallop over 
to them and get something to eat. 

On seeing us coming they all bunched up and 
showed great excitement. This didn't look good 
to Ferris and me, so we galloped back to the 
Bascom trail and continued north. 

About sundown we reached Mead City, a new 
town started a few months previous. Here there 
w^ere a half dozen new frame buildings, their in- 



100 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

sides being turned "topsy turvy," shoAving that 
the Indians had run the occupants off and ran- 
sacked the dwellings. There were Indian moccasin 
tracks everywhere. 

Now we hurried on to the store, on Crooked 
Creek, arrived there after dark. Here we found 
the same conditions as at Mead City, showing 
that the Indians had looted the store. Hearing- 
some ox-bells down the creek we rode to them, 
about a mile distant. Here we found several yoke 
of oxen and a log cabin, the door of which was 
locked. 

Being hungry the lock on the door was broken, 
and we entered. A playful puppy inside gave us a 
hearty welcome. 

After the lamps Avere lighted we found sacks 
of grain for our tired ponies, and a cupboard full 
of nice food. 

Hanging over the still warm ashes in the fire- 
place was a pot of fresh beef stew. This proved 
a treat, and we filled up to the bursting point. 

About midnight we started on the last lap of 
our 225 mile journey. 

A twenty-five mile ride brought us to the tough- 
est town on earth, Dodge City. 

It was .now daylight, and the first man met on 
the main street was Cape Willingham, who at this 
writing is a prosperous cattle broker in El Paso, 
Texas.' 

Cape gave us our first news of the great Indian 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 101 

outbreak. He told of the many murders commit- 
ted by the reds south of Dodge City the day pre- 
vious — one man being killed at Mead City, and an- 
other near the Crooked Creek store. 

Riding up the main street Ferris and I saw 
twenty-five mounted cowboys, holding rifles in 
their hands, and facing one of the half dozen 
saloons, adjoining each other, on that side of the 
street. 

In passing this armed crowd one of them rec- 
ognized me. Calling me by name he said: ''Fall 
in line quick, h — 1 is going to pop in a few min- 
utes ' '. 

We jerked our Winchester rifles from the scab- 
bards and fell in line, like most any other fool cow 
boys would have done. 

In a flioment Clay Allison, the man-killer, came 
out of one of the saloons holding a pistol in his 
hand. With him was Mr. McNulty, owner of the 
large Panhandle "Turkey-track" cattle outfit. 

Clay, who was about half drunk, remarked to 

the boys in line that none of the S b's were in 

that saloon." 

Then a search was made in the next saloon. Ffe 
was hunting for some of the town policemen, or 
the city marshall, so as to wipe them off the face 
of the earth. His twenty-five cowboy friends had 
jDromised to help him clean up Dodge City. 

After all the saloons had been searched Mr. Mc- 



102 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Nulty succeeded in getting Clay to bed at the Bob 
Wright Hotel. Then we all dispersed. 

Soon after, the city law-officers began to crawl 
out of their hiding places, and appear on tlu' 
streets. 

Clay Allison had sworn to kill the first officer 
found — and no doubt he would have done so. 

I found Mr. Erskine Clement, a partner of Mr. 
Beals, at the Wright Hotel, greatly worried over 
the non-arrival of the steer herd, which Mr. 
Moore had written him had started two weeks pre- 
vious. He was surprised when told that I had seen 
no sign of them having come over the Ba scorn 
trail. 

Telegrams kept pouring in from the west, of 
the blood}^ deeds committed by the Indians, on 
their way to Dakota. They were Northern Chey- 
ennes, who had broken away from the Clieyenne 
Agency in the Indian Territory. 

That evening at the Wright Hotel I heard a 
captain from Ft. Dodge, five miles east of Dodge 
City, say that he would round up this tribe of 
reds or leave his dead body on the ground. He 
and his company of soldiers were waiting for a 
west bound train. A week later he was killed in a 
battle which took place. 

In passing through western Nebraska these In- 
dians murdered many settlers. At one ranch-house 
they captured a widow woman and her two daugh- 
ters. After a days march they turned the mother 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 103 

loose on the prairie, stark naked, keeping her two 
daughters with them. 

After mnch hardship this woman found the 
cabin of a "fool hoe-man," who was living alone. 
He wrapped the robe of Charity and his over- 
coat around her, and took her to civilization. 

About midniglit my chum, John Ferris, was 
flat broke, and borrowed twenty-five dollars of 
my accumulated wages, amounting to over $300, 
He had in this short time "blowed in" his $114.00. 
By morning he had borrowed $50.00 from the 
livery mail on his pony and saddle, and I had to 
get these out of "soak" for him, before he could 
hit the road again. 

He went direct to Ft. Sumner, New Mexico, 
where he was shot and killed by Barney Mason, 
one of "Billy the Kid's" gang, and a brother-in- 
law of the fearless New Mexico sheriff, Pat Gar- 
rett, 

The next morning after my arrival in Dodge 
City, Erskine Clement and I struck south to look 
up the lost herd of steers. 

We found the outfit traveling up Crooked Creek 
very slowly. They had quit the Bascom trail to 
avoid long drives between watering places. This, 
no doubt, had saved them from running into the 
Indians. 

In Dodge City the herd was split in two, 400 
head being ]3ut aboard of a train for Chicago. I 



104 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

went in charge of this first shipment, and Mr, 
Clement followed with the next. 

Two of the cow])OYS went with me, one of them 
being- A. M. Melvin, who now, after forty years, 
lives with a happy family at No. 11, Blackinton 
Street, Orient Heights, East Boston, Mass. 

Now for the first time in my life I became a 
cow-puncher, carrying a lantern and a long pole 
with a spike in the end, to keep the steers punched 
up, when they got down in the crowded cars. 

In a few years the name, Cow-puncher, became 
attached to all cowboys. 

At Burlington, Iowa, we crossed the Mississippi 
River into Illinois, and there on the east bank of 
the great river unloaded to feed the steers. 

During our two days stay we three cow-punch- 
ers made a dozen or more trips on the ferry boat 
to Burlington, a swift city. Our trips were free, 
and everything in the way of liquor, cigars, meals, 
candy, etc. bought in Burlington were free. 

The fact of us wearing our cowboy outfits, in- 
cluding chaparejos, pistol and spurs may have 
had something to do with the people refusing to 
take money from us. But is was said that their 
object was to encourage cattle-men to ship by way 
of Burlington. 

On the first night after leaving Burlington I 
came within an ace of being ground to death by 
the train. The thoughts of my narrow escape 
cause my flesh to creep, even to this day. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 105 

A sleet storm was raging. The train stopped to 
take on coal. We three cow punchers left the ca- 
boose and ran up towards the engine, peeping 
through the cracks to see if any of the steers were 
down. 

About the time we reached the engine the train 
started. Then we climbed onto the first car and 
started back to the caboose, on the run. I was in 
the rear. In making a spring from the top of one 
car to the other — the space between being about 
two feet — my high-heel boots slipped on the icy 
boards. There I lay flat on my back vnth my 
head and shoulders over the open space. I had 
grabbed the edge of the footplank with my right 
hand. This is all that saved me from sliding down 
between the cars. 

Mr. Beals met us on our arrival in Chicago. 
After unloading at the stock yards he took me to 
dine with him at the Palmer House. He wanted 
me to take a room in his hotel, but I told him that 
the food and price, five to ten dollars a day, were 
too rich for my blood. Therefore I went to the 
Irvine House where the price was only $2.00 a 
day. 

That night I turned myself loose in the toughest 
part of the city, spending all the money I had, 
about $200.00. 

Towards daylight I managed to find my w^ay 
back to the Irvine House, where a nap was taken. 

About ten a. m. I struck out for the Palmer 



106 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

House to borrow some money from Mr. Beals. 
On the way there, while gazing up at the signs, I 
saw the name of Dr. Bruer, Dentist. This put me 
in mind of the teeth which needed filling, so up 
the stairs I went, not realizing that my pockets 
were empty of cash. 

In the dentist office I found Mr. Bruer and his 
handsome young lady assistant. 

After seating myself in the dentist chair, the 
doctor asked me what kind of filling I wanted for 
the two teeth. I told him to fill them with gold. 

In those days the filling had to be done by hand. 
Tlie doctor used the punch and the young lady the 
mallet. They didn't stop for lunch. It was three 
p. m. when the job was finished. 

Now I got down off the chair, and for the first 
time realized that I didn't have a cent to pay for 
the w^ork. 

I asked the amount of my bill, and was told that 
it was $45.00. I told the doctor that I would drop 
around in the morning and pay him. He turned 
pale, and so did his assistant. The large pistol 
and bowie-knife buckled around my waist may 
have caused them to turn pale. 

Finally the doctor asked the name of my hotel. 
I told him. Then he said : * ' Now you wont forget 
to come up in the morning and pay me?" I an- 
swered him that he could depend upon it. 

I found Mr. David T. Beals at the Palmer House 
and borrowed $100.00. Then I started out to see 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 107 

more of the sights of a great city. But I took 
the precaution to tuck the dentist 's $45.00 down in 
tJie watch pocket of my pants, so that it wouldn't 
be spent. 

The next morning at nine o'clock I was in the 
dentist's office and paid over the $45.00. The 
doctor and his assistant were happily surprised. 

The doctor had me go to lunch with him. Then 
we spent the afternoon driving over the city in his 
buggy, drawn b}^ a fine pair of biack horses. 

We visited the water-works and climbed up to 
the top of the tall, round tower, from the inside. 
On reaching the top I looked over the edge, to the 
ground below, just once. That was enough. I was 
afraid the thing would topple over from my 
weight. The dentist laughed at me, but he couldn 't 
induce me to look over the edge again. 

After the drive was over I hunted up Mr. Beals 
to get more money for the night's sight-seeing. 

I can look back now and see that I was an "easy 
mark" for the city people. Of course they knew 
at a glance by my bowlegs and high-heel boots 
wliere I was from, and they charged be according- 
ly, for what was purchased. 

After a few days sight-seeing I boarded a train 
for Dodge City, Kansas. Mr. Beals and Erskine 
Clement accompanied me. 

Shortly after leaving Chicago I became very 
angry towards my employer, for not giving a poor 
blind beggar some loose change. 



108 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

This old blind man had passed through our car 
leaving each passenger a slip of poetry, to be re- 
turned if a donation was not given. 

When the old man returned through the car 
gathering up his little sheets of poetry, I waited 
to se how much money Millionaire Beals would 
give him. Not a cent did he give. This caused me 
to boil over with rage, although nothing was said. 
Beaching my hand in my pants jDOcket all the loose 
change therein was grabbed and handed to the 
poor blind beggar. It amounted to two or three 
dollars. 

After the blind man had passed on, Mr. Beals 
said : "You are foolish Charlie to throw your mon- 
ey away. That old cuss is rich. "You ask the con- 
ductor when he comes through about him." I di^l 
so, and the conductor told me that this blind beg- 
gar lived in one of the swell residences of Chicago, 
and was considered wealthy. This caused my 
anger to flop from ]\lr. Beals to my own fool self. 

On our way west Mr. Beals "harked back" to 
his early life, telling me of how he struggled at a 
shoe-makers bench, in Massachusetts, to accumu- 
late his first $500.00. 

With this sum in his pocket he drifted to Dead- 
wood, Dakota. 

In a mining camp, across a range of mountains 
from Deadwood, he opened a boot and shoe store, 
ordering his stock of goods on credit, from his 
home town in the east. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 109 

After one year in business, his profits footed 
up $60.00. The next year it amounted to $60,000, 
partly in gold dust. He then sold out the business 
and walked with two hired men, carrying the gold 
dust, to Salt Lake City, Utah, there taking a stage- 
coach for Denver, Colorado, where he Located, 
building the first iron-front store building ever 
put up in Denver, 

Arriving in Dodge City, AVhiskey-Pete was 
mounted early one morning for my 225 mile lonely 
ride to the LX ranch. 

I arrived at the headquarter ranch late in the 
evening. 

A crowd of strangers were playing cards under 
a Cottonwood tree near by. The cook informed me 
that they were ''Billy the Kid" and his Lincoln 
County, New Mexico, warriors. 

When the cook rang the supper bell these 
strangers ran for the long table. After being in- 
troduced, I found myself seated by the side of 
good-natured ''Billy the Kid". Henry Brown, 
Fred Waite and Tom O'Phalliard are the only 
names of this outlaw gang that I can recall. 

When supper was over I produced a box of fine 
Havana cigars, brought from Chicago as a treat 
for the boys on the ranch. They were passed 
around. Then one was stuck into my new $10 
meerschaum cigar holder, and. I began to puff 
smoke towards the ceiling. 

Now "Billy the Kid" asked for a trial of my 



110 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

cigar-holder. This was granted. He liked it so 
well that he begged me to present it to him, which 
I did. In retnrn he presented me with a finely 
bonnd novel which he had jnst finished reading. In 
it he wrote his autograph, giving the date that it 
was presented to me. 

During the next few weeks "Billy the Kid" and 
I became quite chummy. 

After selling out the band of ponies, which he 
and his gang had stolen from the Seven Elver 
warriors, in New Mexico, he left the Canadian 
river country, and I never saw him again. 

Two of his gang, Henry Brown, and Fred 
Waite — a half-breed Chicasaw Indian — quit the 
outfit and headed for the Indian Territory. 

During his long stay around the LX ranch, and 
Tascosa, "Billy the Kid" made one portly old 
capitalist from Boston, Mass., sweat blood for a 
few minutes. 

Mr. Torey owned a large cattle ranch above 
Tascosa. On arriving from the east he learned 
that "Billy the Kid" and gang had made them- 
selves at home on his ranch, for a few days — 
hence he gave the foreman orders not to feed 
them, if they should make another visit. This or- 
der reached the "Kid's" ears. 

While in Tascosa "Billy the Kid" saw old man 
Torey ride up to the hitching rack in front of 
Jack Ryan's saloon. He went out to meet him, and 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 111 

asked if he liad ordered his foreman not to feed 
them. 

Mr. Torey replied, yes, that he didn't want to 
i>ive his ranch a bad name by harboring outlaws. 

Then the ''Kid" jerked his Colts pistol and 
jabbed the old man several times in his portly 
stomach, at the same time telling him to say his 
prayers, as he was going to pump him full of lead. 

With tears in his voice Mr. Torey promised to 
countermand the order. Then war was declared 
off. 

Thus did Mr. Torey, a former sea captain, get 
his eye-teeth cut in the ways of the wild and 
wooly west. 

This story was told to me by "Billy the Kid," 
and Steve Arnold, who was an eye witness to the 
affair. But the "Kid" said he had no intention 
of shooting Mr. Torey — that he just wanted to 
teach him a lesson. 

CHAPTER VI. 
AN ELEVEN HUNDRED MILE HORSEBACK 

RIDE DOWN THE CHISHOLM TRAIL. 

T BOSS A HERD OF STEERS "UP THE 

TRAIL" FROM THE GULF COAST 

OF TEXAS. 

After laying around the home ranch a few 
weeks Mr. Moore put me in charge of a scouting 
outfit, to drift over the South Staked Plains, in 



112 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

search of any cattle which might have escaped 
from the line-riders. 

While on this trip I went to chnreh several 
times. 

A colony of Illinois Christians, under the lead- 
ership of the Reverend Mr. Cahart, had estab- 
lished the town of Clarendon, on the head of Salt 
Fork, a tributary of Red River, and there built a 
white church house among buffalo and wolves. 

Clarendon is still on the map, being the county 
seat of Donnely county, Texas. 

When spring came I was called in from the 
plains and put in charge of a round-up crew, con- 
sisting of a cook and twelve riders. 

Our first round-up was on the Goodnight range, 
at the mouth of Mulberry Creek. Here we had the 
pleasure of a genuine cattle-queen's presence. 
Mrs. Goodnight, a noble little woman, a dyed in 
the wool Texan, whose maiden name was Dyer, 
attended these roundups with her husband. 

Mrs. Goodnight touched a soft spot in my heart 
by filling me up on several occasions, with juicy 
berries which she had gathered with her own 
hands. 

At this writing Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Goodnight 
are still alive, and living in the town of Goodnight, 
Texas, which has been made famous as the home 
of the largest herd of buffalo in that state, and 
possibly the whole United States. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 113 

The foundation of this herd of buffalo was 
started on this round-up in the spring of 1879. 

In the round-up at the head of Mulberry Creek 
was a lone buffalo bull. AVhen ready to turn the 
round-up cattle loose Mr. Buffalo was roped and 
thrown, and a cow-bell fastened to his neck. When 
turned loose he stampeded, and so did the thous- 
ands of cattle. 

In the round-up the following spring the bell- 
buffalo was with the cattle, and had with him sev- 
eral female buffalos. 

During that summer Mr. Goodnight fenced his 
summer range on Mulberry Creek, and this small 
herd of buffalo found themselves enclosed with 
a strong barbed wire fence. 

From what I was told Charlie Goodnight in- 
creased this buffalo herd by liaving cowboys rope 
young animals to be put inside the Mulberry 
Creek fenced pasture. 

Many years afterwards I rode through this 
tame herd of buffalos, near the town of Good- 
night. 

We wound up this spring round-up on the Rock- 
ing Chair range, at the mouth of McClellan Creek, 
where I saw about 50,000 cattle in one bunch — 
more than I had ever seen before in one band. 

Now we returned to the home ranch with about 
500 LX cattle, which had drifted away from the 
range during the winter. 

Shortly after our return Mr. Moore had us help 



114 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

him brand some large long-horn steers, late ar- 
rivals from South Texas. 

We did the branding on the open plains, at 
Amarillo Lake. 

While roping and tying down these wild steers 
we had great sport in seeing ''Center-fire" sad- 
dles jerked over sideways from the pony's back, 
the riders with them. 

Mr. Moore had got his cowboy training in Cali- 
fornia, where they use ''center-fire", high horn 
saddles, and riatas, (ropes) which they wrap 
around the saddle-horn when roping on horse- 
back. The cinchas on these saddles being broad., 
and in the center of the saddle, which makes it dif- 
ficult to keep the saddle tight on the pony's back 

Mr. Moore had persuaded many of his cowboys 
to use these saddles and the long rawhide "ria- 
tas" — hence a large order had been sent to Cali- 
fornia in the early spring. In the order were 
many silver mounted spurs and Spanish bridle 
bits. I sent for one of these ten dollar bridle bits, 
and am still using it to ride with. 

I must confess that Moore never got a fall from 
his "center-fire" saddle, as he had learned his 
lesson early in life. He was also an expert roper 
with his 75-foot "riata." He could throw the 
large loop further and catch his animal oftener 
than any man in the crowd of about twenty-five 
riders. 

Moore tried his best to persuade me, and such 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 115 

Texas raised cowboys as Jim East, Steve Arnold 
and Lee Hall, not to tie our 30-foot ropes hard 
and fast to tlie saddle liorns when roping large 
steers. He argued that it was too dangerous. No 
doubt he was right, but we had been trained that 
way. 

Later poor Lee Hall was gored to death by a 
wild steer, roped down in the Lidian Territory. 
The steer had jerked his mount over backward, 
and one of his spurs caught in the flank cinch, 
preventing him from freeing himself until too late 
to save his life. 

The spur which hung in the cinch and caused 
liis death, was one O'f the fine silver mounted pair 
Avhich Moore sent to California for. 

After his death I fell heir to Lee Hall's spurs 
and they are used by me to this day, over 40 years 
later. 

In the latter part of June Mr. Moore put me 
in charge of 800 fat steers for the Chicago mark- 
et. My outfit consisted of a well filled mess- 
wagon, a cook and five riders. 

We headed for Nickerson, Kansas, on the Ar- 
kansas River, across country through No-Mans- 
Land — now the 30 mile strip of Oklahoma which 
l)utts up against New Mexico on the west, and on 
the north is bordered by Kansas and Colorado, 
the Texas Panhandle being the south border. 

Late in the fall we arrived in Nickerson, 



116 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Kansas, and turned the steers over to ''Deacon" 
Bates. 

Leaving Whiskey-Pete and a Missouri mare, 
which I had traded for, with a ''fool hoe-man," 
five miles south of town, "Jingie-bob" Joe Har- 
graves and I started west across country to meet 
another herd of fat steers. 

As the snow had begun to fly it was thought 
best to turn this herd towards Dodge City, Kan- 
sas — hence we being sent to pilot the outfit to 
Dodge City. 

While on this lonely ride I came within an ace 
of "passing in my checks." We ran out of grub 
and for supper one night filled up on canned 
peaches, without anything else to eat with them. 
All night these juicy peaches held a war-dance in 
the pit of my stomach, and before daylight I was 
all in. "Jingle-bob" Joe wanted me to pray, but 
I told him that I would wait a little longer, in 
hopes that I might pull through. 

Joe Hargraves was not much on the pray him- 
self, but I believe he has a passport to heaven for 
one kindly act done the winter previous. He was 
on his way to Dodge City, over the Bascom trail, 
when he stopped for the night on the Cimarron 
River, where a short time previous a small store 
had been established. 

The next morning a "fool hoe-man" and his 
hungry and ragged familj" drove up in a covered 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 117 

wagon drawn by two skinny ponies. They were 
lialf starved and didn 't have a cent of monej'. 

"Jingle-bob" Joe asked the store man what he 
would take for all the goods in his place. He set 
the price at $150.00, which was accepted. Then 
the goods were loaded into the "hoeman's" wa- 
gon, and he drove off singing ''Home, Sweet 
Home". He was looking for a free home to settle; 
on. 

We finally fonnd the steer outfit and turned 
them towards Dodge City. There the fat steers 
were put aboard two trains, and I took charge of 
one train, thus taking my second lesson in cow 
punching, with a spiked pole and lantern. 

As on the former trip the steers were unloaded 
across the Mississippi River from BurlingtoU; 
Iowa, and fed. 

In the city of Burlington we punchers were 
treated royally. None of the candy and ice-cream 
merchants would take a penny from us. Every- 
thing in that line was free. 

On arriving in Chicago Mr. Beats met us. Then 
at the Palmer House Mr. Beals settled up my 
wage and expense account. With a few hundred 
dollars in my pocket I started out to see the 
sights again. 

I had told Mr. Beals of my intention to quit his 
outfit and spend the winter in Southern Texas. 
He agreed that if I concluded to go back to work 
for the XL company in the spring, he would ar- 



118 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

range for me to boss a herd of steers up the trail. 
Said he had already contracted with Charlie Word 
of Goliad, Texas, for two herds to be delivered on 
the LX Ranch. 

A couple of days and nights sight-seeing put me 
almost '*on the bum", financially. Then a train 
was boarded for Nickerson, Kansas. 

Whiskey-Pete and the bay mare were found hog- 
fat. The ''fool hoe-man" had shoved corn to 
them with a scoop shovel. 

After X3urchasing a pack-saddle, and some grub, 
I had just six dollars in cash left to make my elev- 
en hundred mile journey down the Chisholm trail 
to the gulf coast of Texas. 

Puck was not far off when he wrote: ''What 
fools these mortals be." For here was a fool 
cowboy starting out to ride eleven hundred miles, 
just to be in the saddle, and to get a pony back 
home. 

On the way down the trail I kept myself sup- 
plied with cash by swapping saddles, pack pon>-, 
watches, and running races with Whiskey-Pete, 
who was hard to beat in a three hundred yard 
race. 

At one place in middle Texas I laid over a 
couple of days to rest my ponies, and to make a 
few dollars picking cotton. 

One morning I was sent out by the farmer, 
with a bunch of bare-footed girls, to pick cotton 
in a field which had already been picked over. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 119 

These young damsels gave me the "horse-laugh" 
for my awkwardness in picking the snowy balls of 
cotton. 

When night came I had earned just thirty cents, 
while the girls had made more than a dollar each. 
This was my last stunt as a cotton picker. 
' On Pecan Creek, near Denton, I put up one 
night at the home of old man Murphy — the father 
of Jim Murphy, who was a member of the Sam 
Bass gang of train robbers, and whose name is 
mentioned in the Sam Bass song, which was a 
favorite with trail cowboys. 

The old Chisholm trail was lined with negroes, 
headed for Topeka and Emporia, Kansas, to get 
a free farm and a span of mules from the state 
government. 

Over my pack there was a large buffalo robe, 
and on my saddle hung a fine silver-mounted 
Winchester rifle. These attracted the attention 
of those green cotton-field negroes, who wore me 
out asking questions about them. 

Some of these negroes were afoot, while others 
drove donkeys and oxen. The shiny black chil- 
dren and half-starved dogs were plentiful. Many 
of the outfits turned back when I told them of the 
cold blizzards and deep snow in Kansas. 

My eleven hundred mile journey ended at the 
old Ranclio Grande headquarter ranch, after being 
on the trail one month and twelve days. 

The balance of the winter was spent on hunting 



120 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

trips after deer and wild hogs, and visiting- 
friends throughout the county of Matagorda. 

Early in the spring I mounted Gotch, a pony 
traded for, and bidding Whiskey-Pete goodbye, he 
being left with my chum, Horace Yeamans, we 
headed for Goliad to meet Charlie Word. He was 
found near Beeville, thirty miles west of Goliad, 
putting up a herd of long-horn steers for the LX 
company. He had received a letter from Mr. 
David T. Beals telling him to put me in charge 
of one of the herds. 

This first herd was to be bossed ''up the trail" 
by Liasli Stevens. 

The outfit was up to their ankles in sticky mud, 
in a large round corral, putting the road-brand on 
the steers, when I found them. I pitched in and 
helped, and was soon covered with mud from head 
to feet. Each steer had to be roped and thrown 
afoot, which made it a disagreeable job in the 
cold drizzling rain. And to finish out the days 
work, after my thirty mile ride from Goliad, I 
stood guard over the steers until after midnight. 

Mr. Word had just purchased a baud of **wet" 
ponies from old Mexico, and I showed my skill in 
riding some of the wildest ones. 

One large iron-grey gelding, which the Mexi- 
cans said was a man-killer, broke my cinchas and 
dumped me and the saddle into the mud. Then he 
pawed the saddle with his front feet until it was 
ruined. I had to buy a new saddle to finish break- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 121 

ing this man-killing broncho. But he proved to 
be a dandy cow pony when tamed. 

After the herd had been road-branded and 
turned over to Mr. Stevens and his crew of trail 
cowboys, Charlie Word asked me to help him get 
the herd started on the trail. 

Our first night out proved a strenuous one. Mr. 
Stevens had taken a fool notion to arm his cow- 
boys with bulls-eye lanterns, so that they could 
see the location of each other on dark nights. He 
had ordered a few extra ones and insisted on me 
trying one that night, which I did. 

About ten o'clock a severe storm came up and 
we were all in the saddle ready for a stampede. 

While I was running at bi"eak-neck speed, to 
reach the lead of the herd, my pony went head 
over heels over a rail fence. The light from the 
lantern had blinded him, so that he failed to see 
it in time. 

The pony was caught and mounted, and the new- 
fangled bulls-eye lantern was left on the ground. 

Strange to relate, this lantern is prized today 
as a souvenir of bygone days. It was picked up 
next day by a young rancher, who, at this writing 
lives near Kingston, Sierra County, New Mexico. 

I finally reached the lead of the herd, and from 
that time 'till daylight it was one stampede after 
another. 

Daylight found young Glass and me alone with 
about half the herd of 3700 head. We were jammed 



122 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

into the foot of a lane, down which the cattle had 
drifted during the last hour of darkness. 

This lane was built with five strands of new 
barbed wire, and was cut off by a cross fence. 
Here the herd was jammed together so tightly that 
it was impossible to ride to the rear. 

There we had to wait and pray that another 
stampede wouldn't start while hemmed in on three 
sides by a high wire fence. A stampede would 
have, no doubt, sent us to the happy hunting 
ground. 

It required two days hard work to gather up 
steers lost during the night. They had become 
mixed up with range cattle. 

In that camp the price of bulls-eye lanterns took 
a tumble. It was almost impossible to give one 
away. 

After the herd was strung out again on the trail 
I went to Goliad to meet Charlie Word. 

Here he made up a crew of twelve riders, a cook 
and mess-wagon, with five ponies to the rider, 
and turned them over to me. With this crew I 
drifted northwesterly to the crooked-street, strag- 
gling town of San Antonio, — now one of the lead- 
ing cities of Texas. 

In San Antonio we had all of our ponies shod, 
as WG were going into a rocky country. 

When out of San Antonio about fifty miles a 
bucking broncho "busted" a blood vessel in my 
bread basket. Being in great misery, and unable 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 123 

to sit up straight in the saddle, I conchided to 
ride back to the Alamo City and consult that great 
•German doctor, Herff. The crew were instructed 
to lay over until my return. 

In San Antonio I made inquiry as to where 
Doctor Herff could be found. 

Riding up to a large, old-fashioned, stone resi- 
dence I found this noted doctor — more than ninety 
years of age — hoeing in his garden. He informed 
me that he had turned his practice over to his son. 

I found Dr. Herff, Jr. living in a fine two-story 
stone mansion. He laid me on a couch and ex- 
amined the seat of pain. He pronounced a blood 
vessel stretched out of shape, so that the blood 
was not flowing through it — hence the great pain. 

He told me to go back to camp, and on rising 
every morning, for a couple of weeks, to drink all 
the water I could possibly hold, and then, im- 
mediately afterwards, to drink that much more. 
He said this was all the medicine I needed. His 
charge was fifty cents for the examination and 
advice. 

The next morning after reaching camp I took 
a half -gallon coffee-pot down to the creek and fil- 
ling it drank it empty. It seemed impossible to 
drink any more, but by a great effort the coffee 
pot was emptied again. 

After the first morning it was no trick at all 
to drink a gallon of water at one sitting. 

In a few days I was completely cured, and the 



124 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

memory of Doctor Herff and liis half-dollar fee 
will stay with me to the grave. 

Now we continued the journey up the Llano 
River. 

On reaching Kimble County we laid over in a 
new village called Junction City, now the jDrosper- 
ous seat of governmetn of Kimble county, to lead 
up our mess-wagon with grub, etc. 

Further up the river we came to the end of oiii- 
journey, at the Joe, and Creed Taylor ranches. 
We established camp on Paint Creek, in a ver\' 
rough, rocky country. 

Charlie Word had bought 2500 head of cattle 
from Joe Taylor, and it was our duty to gather 
them from this range. 

Mr. Creed Taylor had raised a son, "Buck" 
who was a reckless, daredevil. He was buried witli 
his boots on — that is, shot and killed. 

In the beginning of the '70s, around Quero, in 
Victoria County, Texas, a bloody feud raged be- 
tween the Taylor and Sutton gangs. 

In one of their bloody battles in the town of 
Quero, it was reported that nine men were killed. 

About thirty-five years later I tried to obtain 
the truth of this report. 

In the little city of Las Cruces, New Mexico, 
lives one of these noted feudists. He is a highl\ 
respected banker and cattle raiser. It is said that 
he lay in jail, on account of the Taylor-Sutton 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 125 

fnecl, seven long years before being freed by the 
liiglier courts. 

About the year 1914 I happened to be in Las 
Oruces, and concluded to find out the truth about 
this bloody battle in Quero. 

I was stopping at the Park Hotel, owned by the 
president of the First National Bank of that town. 
This gentleman had been brought up in the neigh- 
borhood of Quero, and believed the story was cor- 
rect, about nine men being killed in one battle, 
when the Taylor and Sutton gangs met. This 
didn't satify me, so I told the gentleman that I 
was going to visit this noted feudist at his bank 
and find out the truth. 

He advised me not to do it, as it would result 
in me being kicked out of the bank, if I mentioned 
the subject. 

On walking into the feudist's bank, he met me 
with out-stretched hand, and conducted me to his 
private desk in the rear. 

I introduced myself as an early day Texas cow- 
boy who had worked for ''Shanghai" Pierce. He 
knew ''Shanghai" well, and had much to say in 
his favor. 

After we had talked about different subjects, I 
finally said : ' ' Oh, by the way, is it true that there 
were nine men killed in Quero one night when the 
Taylor and Sutton crowds met?" 

In all my long life I never saw a man change so 
suddenly from a smiling, good-natured man to a 



126 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

scowling demon. His black eyes shot sparks of 
fire and lie straigntened up in his chair, striking 
the desk with his fist, saying : ' ' You bet it is true, 
we killed them knee-deep that night ! ' ' 

Just then three men came into the bank and 
told him to hurry up, as they were waiting for 
him. 

Here he begged my pardon for having to leave 
me, but he said he had to go out in the country 
to look at some cattle. 

When he uttered the above expression I felt re- 
lieved, for it seemed that he was getting ready to 
kick me out of the bank. 

I met the gentleman many times afterwards, 
but never alone, so as to renew the subject. 

About the same time that the Taylor-Sutton 
feud was raging, there was another bloody feud 
being enacted in Jackson and Colorado counties, 
between the Stafford and Townsend gangs. 
''Tuck" Townsend was the leader on one side and 
Bob Stafford on the other. 

Bob Stafford was a wealthy cattle owner, of 
Columbus, on the Colorado river. 

Only a few of Bob Stafford's warmest friends 
knew the secret of how he became crippled in the 
left hand. It happened thus : 

Stafford was riding along the road on a skit- 
tish horse. On the ground near by sat a twelve 
year old German boy eating his noonday lunch. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 127 

Near by grazed his small band of sheep, which he 
was herding. 

The boy's dog ran out and scared Mr. Staf- 
ford's mount. Then he drew his pistol and killed 
the dog. 

Now the boy sprang to his feet, and pulling his 
powder and ball pistol, opened fire on Stafford, 
who at once began shooting at the boy. But hi.-', 
horse jumping around made his aim untrue. 

Bob Stafford had emptied his pistol, while the 
boy had only shot twice, and was taking aim for 
the third shot. 

Here Stafford threw up his right hand, which 
held the pistol, saying: "Don't shoot, I'm 
empty. ' ' 

The boy replied: "Alright, load up." Then he 
squatted down on the ground, and taking his pow- 
der horn from his shoulder proceeded to load the 
two empty chambers of his six-shooter. 

Stafford replied, as he rode away: "No, I've 
got enough!" He was wounded in the left hand 
from one of the boy's shots. 

Later Mr. Stafford rewarded the boy for his 
cool bravery. 

Now, on the Creed and Joe Taylor range, we be- 
gan gathering 2500 head of wild cattle. It was the 
hardest job of my life, working from daylight 
'till dark, and then standing night-guard half the 
night. 

As a rule bosses don't stand guard at night, ex- 



128 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ceptiiig when there is danger of a stampede. But 
in order to keep my crew in a good humor I took 
my regular turn. The boys were worn out, and 
Avere ahnost on the eve of striking, from having to 
work twenty-six hours out of every twenty-four, 
as they expressed it. 

Finally we got the herd ''broke in," and started 
"up the trail," but not "up the Chisholm trail," 
which lay to the eastward about 100 miles. 

During that spring of 1880 the Chisholm trail 
was impassible for large herds, as "fool hoe-men" 
had squatted all over it, and were turning its hard 
packed surface into ribbons with plows. 

When about fifty miles west of Ft. AVorth, 
Charlie Word, who had come around by rail, drove 
out in a buggy to see how we were getting along, 
and to supply me with more expense money. 

At Doan's store, on Red River, we found Liash 
Stevens waiting for us. We swapped herds, as it 
had been decided to. drive the herd I was with up 
into Wyoming. 

I arrived at the LX ranch with 3700 head of 
steers on the first day of July. 

Now part of my crew were paid off, and with 
the balance, six riders, I took the herd onto the 
South Staked Plains to fatten the steers. 

Shortly afterwards I rode into Tascosa, and 
saw the great changes which had taken place since 
my last visit, a year previous. 

Now there were three saloons and two dance- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 129 

halls running full blast. Also the foundation laid 
for a new Court House. 

The county of Oldham, with Tascosa as the 
Connty-seat, had been organized, and twelve unor- 
ganized counties attached to Oldham County. 

My cowboy friend. Cape Willingham, had been 
appointed sheriff of these thirteen counties. 

One of the first things I did after riding into 
Tascosa was to step into Mr. Turner's restaurant 
to see his pretty daughter, Miss Victoria Turner. 
I was not hungry, but to have the pleasure of this 
pretty miss waiting on me I was ordering all the 
good tilings in the restaurant. Just then a gang of 
cowboys came charging through the main street 
shooting off pistols. 

As this was no uncommon thing for a live cow- 
town, I didn't even get up from the table. 

In a moment Sheriff Willingham came running 
into the cafe with a double-barrel shot-gun in his 
hand. He asked me to help him arrest some drun- 
ken cow-boys who had just dismounted and gone 
into Jack Ryan's saloon, near by. 

Just as we reached the Ryan saloon these cow- 
boys came out. One of them sprang onto his horse, 
when the sheriff told him to throw up his hands. 
Instead of throwing up his hands he drew his pis- 
tol. Then Willingham planted a charge of buck- 
shot in his heart, and he tumbled to the ground 
dead. 

The dead cowboy was the one the sheriff was af- 



130 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ter, as he had seen him empty his pistol at a flock 
of ducks, which a lady was feeding out of her hand, 
as she sat in a door-way. 

In galloping down the street this cowboy re- 
marked to his companions: "Watch me kill some 
of those ducks." He killed them alright, and the 
woman fainted. 

These nine cowboys had just arrived "up the 
trail" with a herd of long-horn cattle, and were 
headed for the north. For fear they might make a 
raid on him that night, which they threatened to 
do, the sheriff had me stay with him till morning. 

Thus did Tascosa bury her first man with his 
boots on, which gave her the reputation of being 
a genuine cow-town. 

' From now on Tascosa 's "Boot-hill" cemetery 
began to show new-made graves. The largest kill- 
ing in one night being six. At that time my cow- 
boy friend, James H. East, now a well-to-do citi- 
zen of Douglas, vVrizona, was sheriff. He held the 
office for four terms, and helped to lay many wild 
and wooly cowboys under the sod, with their 
boots on. 

Before the court house and jail were finished 
Tascosa had a bad murder case to try. The Dis- 
trict Judge, and attorney, came from Mobeta to 
try the case. 

Jack Ryan was foreman of the jury, and the 
upstairs part of his saloon was selected as the 
jury room. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 131 

AVlieii the prisoner's case was finislied the jury 
were locked up over the saloon. 

About midnight Jack Ryan and some of the 
jury men were holding out for murder in the first 
degree. 

About that time Frank James, Ryan 's gambling- 
partner, got a ladder and climbed up to the out- 
side window of the jury-room. He then called for 
Ryan, and told him that there was a big poker 
game going on in the saloon, and that he needed 
$300.00. 

Jack gave him the money from the bank-roll, 
which he carried in his pocket, at the same time 
telling him to keep the game going until he could 
get down there, and take a hand. 

Now Ryan called the jury men together and 
told them about the big poker game down in the 
saloon. He said it was necessary for him to be 
there and help Frank James out — hence he had 
come to the conclusion that the prisoner was in- 
nocent, and had. no evil intentions of murdering 
his victim. 

In a few moments Ryan had the few stubborn 
jury-men on his side, and the prisoner was declar- 
ed innocent. At least this is the story told to me by 
men who claimed to know the facts of the case. 
This added another laurel to Tascosa's brow as a 
wide-open cow-town. 

The following year Tascosa put on city airs by 
the arrival of a young lawyer by the name of Ln- 



332 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

cius Dills, who linug out a sliingie as Attorney at 
Law. 

During that fall the first election of Oldham 
County was held and Mr. Dills was elected the 
first County Judge. He was appointed District 
Attorney for the whole Panhandle district, com- 
prising twenty-four counties, before his term as 
judge exjjired. Then he tore down his shingle as 
Attorney at Law, and moved to Mobeta, thus Tas- 
cosa lost her first lawyer. 

In the spring of 1885 Mr. Lucius Dills quit the 
Panhandle country and moved to Lincoln County, 
New Mexico, finally settling down in Roswell as 
editor of the Roswell Record. Here he married the 
lovely daughter of Judge Frank Lea, Miss Ger- 
trude, and at the present writing has two pretty 
daughters. He is now Surveyor General for the 
State of New Mexico, and lives in Santa Fe, 
where his friends are counted by the hundreds. 

CHAPTER VII. 

"BILLY THE KID'S" CAPTURE. 

I ESCAPED ASSASSINATION BY A 
SCRATCH. 

About the first of September my steer herd was 
turned loose on the winter range. Then we started 
out to brand calves. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY ** 133 

When the branding season was over Moore sent 
nie onto the South Plains in charge of a scouting 
crew. 

A month later a runner hunted me up to deliver 
a letter from Moore. In this letter I was instruc- 
ted to turn the outfit over to James McClaugher- 
ty, and to bring three of my picked fighting cow- 
boys with me to the headquarter ranch. 

I selected James H. East, Lee Hall and Cal 
Polk as the fighting men. 

On arriving at the ranch Moore outfitted me for 
a trip to New Mexico after ''Billy the Kid," and 
LX cattle which he and his gang had been steal- 
ing. 

I finally started up the river with four large 
mules hitched to a heavy mess-wagon, with Fran- 
cisco as driver and cook. My fighting crew con- 
sisted of five men: Big- foot Wallace, (Frank 
Clifford) Jim East, Cal Polk, Lon Chambers and 
Lee Hall. 

In Tascosa we were joined by the Littlefield 
crew, in charge of Bob Roberson. He had a mess- 
wagon, a cook, and five riders. 

We started out with only one horse apiece, with 
the exception of myself; I had two. 

As corn was scarce it was thought best to buy 
more horses if we should need them. 

On reaching San Lorenzo, New Mexico, I board- 
ed a buck-board to Las Vegas, to buy a supply of 
corn, grub and ammunition, giving the outfit in- 



134 • A LONE STAR COWBOY 

structions to lay over in Anton Chico, on the Pecos 
river, until I got there. 

I found Las Vegas to be a swift clance-hall town, 
and the first night of my arrival I went broke, 
playing monte — a Mexican game. I blowed in all 
my expense money, about $300, and about $100 
wir.ch Bob Eoberson had given me to buy ammuni- 
tion and grub. 

A big-hearted merchant by the name of Hou- 
ton, or Van Houton, gave me the goods I needed, 
he taking orders on the LX company for pay. 

On reaching Anton Chico with the wagon load 
of supplies, I learned that "Billy the Kid" and 
gang had slipped into town one night and stolen 
some fresh horses. They had come from the White 
Oaks country, to the south-westward. 

We finally pulled out for White Oaks, and the 
next morning early, Pat Garrett, the sheriff of 
Lincoln County, New Mexico, rode into our camp. 
He said he was making up a crowd to go down 
the Pecos river in search of "Billy the Kid" and 
gang. 

After consulting together, Bob Eoberson and I 
decided to furnish Garrett part of our crew. Hence 
I turned over to him Lee Hall, Jim East, and Lon 
Chambers. Eoberson loaned him Tom Emory and 
Louis Bozeman, Frank Stewart also joined Pat 
Garrett, he being his own boss and not subject to 
Eoberson 's orders. 

In Anton Chico, Pat Garrett picked up a few of 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 135 

his owu men, his brother-in-law, Barney Mason be- 
ing one of them. They then started down the 
Pecos river. 

In the Mexican village of Pnerto de Luna, Gar- 
rett proved his bravery. A drunken Mexican en- 
emy fired a shot at him from the open door of a 
saloon, Garrett remarked that he didn't want to 
kill the fellow, so he would just break his right 
arm. This he did with a well aimed shot. 

Roberson and I struck out for White Oaks in a 
raging snow storm. 

When within a days ride of White Oaks we came 
to the still smoking ruins of the Jim Greathouse 
road-ranch, a saloon and store. 

Here a posse from White Oaks, under the lead- 
ership of deputy-sheriff Jim Carlyle, fought a 
battle, a few days previous, with ''Billy the Kid" 
and his gang. 

While the posse had the gang surrounded in 
the Greathouse ranch, Jim Carlyle went in to 
have a talk with the "Kid." 

For an hour or more the gang held Carlyle a 
prisoner, waiting for darkness to come so they 
could make their escape. They made him drink 
with them at the bar, every time they took a drink. 

Finally Jim Carlyle jumped through a window 
to make his escape. As he sprang through the win- 
dow the "Kid" shot him. Pie fell on the outside 
and began crawling away. Then the ' ' Kid ' ' killed 
him with another shot from his pistol. 



136 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

• 

In the darkest part of the night the gang made 
a break for liberty, and escaped. 

The next day the posse set fire to the ranch, as 
it had become a rendezvous for outlaws. 

In following the gang's trail through the snow 
they came to the Spence ranch, where the gang 
had eaten breakfast. 

Now the posse burnt up Mr. Spencer's buildings 
for feeding them. 

By tramping all that day and part of the night 
the ' * Kid ' ' gang reached Anton Chico, where they 
stole horses and saddles, while my outfit was 
there waiting for me to retuvn from Las Vegas. 

AVe arrived in the new mining camp of White 
Oaks in- a severe snow storm. 

For a week we camped out in the open with the 
snow nearly two feet deep, then w^e rented a build- 
ing to live in. 

Two of the leading merchants. Mr. Whiteman, 
and Mr. Sweet, gave us unlimited credit for grub 
and horse feed. We concluded to make this our 
headquarters until Pat Garrett and crowd were 
heard from. He had felt sure that he would find 
''Billy the Kid" and gang down on the Pecos 
river. 

White Oaks was only a j'ear old, but she con- 
tained over a thousand population, mostly ven- 
turesome men from all parts of the land, who 
flocked there after the first find of rich gold ore. 

An outlaw by the name of Wilson had put 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 137 

AVhite Oaks on the map by stumbling onto a rich 
gold lead. He was making his get-away from 
Texas law officers, and cut across the county of 
Lincoln, New Mexico. 

At White Oaks spring his pony played out, and 
seeing a smoke from a cabin three miles down the 
gulch he headed for it. 

This cabin proved to be the home of two old 
California placer miners, Jack Winters, and John 
Wilson. They were washing gold out of the bed of 
Baxter Gulch, and hauling water on burros from 
White Oaks Spring. 

The ground was rich in gold, and they generally 
took the gold dust to Lincoln, the county seat of 
Lincoln County, every Saturday, returning to 
Baxter Gulch on Mondays. 

These two old prospectors gave outlaw Wilson 
permission to make himself at home in their cabin 
until his pony rested. 

On the day after his arrival, after eating dinner, 
Wilson started out to walk to the top of Baxter 
Mountain, to view the surrounding country. He 
took a pick on his shoulder, telling the old pros- 
pectors that he might find a gold mine. 

When half way up the high mountain, Wilson 
sat down on a boulder to rest. While resting he be- 
gan to chip pieces off this quartz boulder. 

When ready to proceed on his journey he picked 
up a large chip from this boulder, and seeing 
specks of yellow in it, he stuck it in his pocket. 



138 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

It was almost dark when he got back to the 
cabin. Jack Winters was cooking flap- jacks for 
supper, on the sheet-iron stove. As a joke he ask- 
ed Wilson if he had found a gold mine. He replied 
that he had found a rock with specks of yellow in 
it. He then handed Winters the chip from his 
pocket. 

One glance at the rock sent Winters up in the 
air with a yell. This brought John Wilson out of 
his slumber, then he, too, became excited. 

It required a lot of persuasion to get Wilson to 
go back up the mountain and show them the 
boulder from which this chip was broken. His ar- 
gument being that he was worn out from his long- 
tramp, and that the boulder would be there in the 
morning. 

Finally the three started up the mountain side 
with lantern and location stakes, the flap- jacks 
being left on the stove to burn up. 

On reaching the boulder, other similar quartz 
boulders were found further up the mountain, 
finally, by the light from the lantern, the quartz 
lead about three feet wide, was discovered. In 
picking into it wires of free gold were discovered. 

Now the two old prospectors wrote out location 
notices on the stakes brought along. Wilson was 
asked his full name, so that he could be put in as 
a third owner. But he told them to locate it for 
themselves, as he had no use for a gold mine. 
Therefore two full claims, each 1500 feet in leng-th 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 139 

and 600 feet in width, were located, running north 
and south, they being named the North Home- 
sttike, and the South Homestake, Winters claimed 
the. former and John Wilson the latter. 

It was midnight when the three tired and hun- 
gry men returned to the cabin, and finished the 
flap-jack operation. 

In a few days outlaw Wilson mounted his 
rested pony, and headed north-westward for the 
adobe village of Albuquerque, on the Eio Grande 
River, a distance of about 140 miles. He was pre- 
sented with an old pistol and 9 silver dollars, all 
the cash in camp, when he started. 

Shortly after his departure officers from Texas 
arrived on Wilson's trail, but whether they ever 
over-took him is a question, as he had several days 
the start. 

Shortly before our arrival in White Oaks, Jack 
Winters and John Wilson had sold the North and 
South Homestake to a St. Louis Company — each 
receiving $300,000 for their rich claims. 

During one of his sober spells Jack Winters 
told me the story as outlined above. 

This sudden fortune was too much for poor old 
Winters. Whiskey killed him within a year. In the 
last days of his life he gave a young lady — Miss 
B — $20,000 to care for him until he died. 

Soon after the discovery of the Homestake 
mines two other rich leads were located at the 
foot of Baxter Mountain. One of them being the 



140 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Old Abe, and the other the Little Mack. The lat- 
ter was secured in its infancy by Mr. Geo. W. 
Prichard, now one of the leading lawyers of Santa 
Fe, New Mexico, and the Old Abe by Mr. John Y. 
Hewett, still a citizen of White Oaks. 

Within a few years Mr. Hewett and his asso- 
ciates took out over $1,000,000 from the Old Abe 
gold mine, the shaft now being down into the bow- 
els of the earth over 1000 ft., and as dry as a bone, 
no water having been struck, which is something 
unusual. 

Previous to our arrivel in White Oaks two 
cowboys had a duel with pistols in the Bill Hudg- 
ins Pioneer Saloon. 

After the shooting was over Joe Fowler ran 
into the saloon and asked the bar-keeper who fired 
those shots. He pointed to the cowboy lying in 
one corner of the saloon, badly wounded, as one 
of the shooters. Then Joe Fowler pulled his pis- 
tol and shot the wounded cowboy dead. He then 
made up a crowd and followed the other one to 
White Oaks Springs, where they hung him to a 
tree. 

A few years later Joe Fowler was hanged by a 
vigilance committee, in the town of Socorro, New 
Mexico. 

Fowler had just sold out his ranch and cattle in 
Socorro County, for $50,000 and was in Socorro on 
a spree. While on this spree he stabbed one of his 
own cowboys to death. A short time previous he 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 141 

had killed Jim Greatliouse, (the man whose road 
house had been burnt by the White Oaks posse 
after the battle with "Billy the Kid") with a shot- 
gun, while he lay in bed. 

This vigilante crowd allowed Fowler to have 
a fair jury trial. He had employed Tom Catron, 
and Thornton, of Santa Fe, to defend him. 

When the jury brought in a verdict of guilty the 
vigilantes hung Fowler to a tree. 

Before coming to New^ Mexico Joe Fowler own- 
ed a small cattle ranch in western Texas. He sold 
out to a friend of mine, now living in Alamogordo, 
New^ Mexico. 

Soon after purchasing the ranch the new owner 
dug a ditch near the well, to put in a pipe line. 
In doing so the bodies of several men were dug 
up — victims, no doubt, of Fowlers murderous 
instinct. 

At midnight our crowd ushered in the new year 
of 1881, in front of our picket shack. Each man 
emptied a Winchester rifle and a six-shooter in 
rapid succession. This being done to frighten the 
citizens of White Oaks, as we figured that they 
would think "Billy the Kid" had struck town. He 
had shot up the town a short time previous. 

Our guess was correct for it caused a regular 
stampede out of the saloons and billiard-hall. The 
town marshal, "Pinto Tom," was playing bil- 
liards when the shooting began. He dropped his 
cue and broke for the back door, and took to the 



142 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

tall timber on the side of Carrizozo Mountain. It 
was noon next day when he returned. We had a 
man watching "Pinto Tom" to see what his ac- 
tions would be. 

Bob Roberson and I kept the neighbors around 
our shack supplied with fresh beef. A large steer 
would be dressed and hung up in a tree near by. 
The neighbors' would help themselves to this stol- 
en beef — so that we had to butcher a fresh one 
quite often. One of these beef eating neighbors, 
William G. McDonald, then a young surveyor, 
was the first governor of the state of 
New Mexico. He had become a wealthy cattle 
man, and was opposed to people eating stolen 
beef, but I reminded him of the time when he 
seemed to relish it. He made a splendid governor, 
and when he died, and was buried in AVhite Oaks , 
a short time ago, I lost one of my dearest friends. 

Roberson and I didn't consider that we were 
stealing, as in Texas it was the custom to kill 
anyone's animals for beef. 

Most of the fat steers butchered by our crowd 
belonged to Tom Catron, later U. S. Senator, and 
his nephew, Mr. Waltz. They owned a cattle ranch 
at Carrizozo Springs — near where the i^rosperous 
little city of Carrizozo now stands. 

The first word we had of "Billy the Kid" was 
when three of our boys, Lee Hall, Lon Chambers 
and Louis Boseman arrived from Ft. Sumner, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 143 

with the news that ^' Billy the Kid" and gang had 
been captured, two of the gang being killed. 

They explained the fight as follows : 
On arriving in Ft. Sumner, Garrett learned 
that the "Kid" and his gang had been there and 
rode east for Portales Lake. Hence the sheriff 
surmised that they would soon return. Therefore 
camp was pitched in an old vacated adobe house, 
fronting the Ft. Sumner and Los Portales road. 

In front of this house there was an adobe fence, 
behind which one man was put on guard every 
night to give the alarm if men were seen coming 
toward P''t. Sumner. 

Several nights later while Lon Chambers was 
on duty, behind the adobe fence, a crowd of men 
w^as seen by the moonlight coming down the road. 

Chambers at once gave the alarm to Garrett and 
the boys who were playing poker. Then all lined 
themselves along the adobe fence. 

When the man in the lead was opposite, Gar- 
rett stood up and called to him to throw up his 
hands. Instead he drew his pistol, and received 
several bullets through the body. These shots 
scattered the gang like a flock of quail. Many 
shots were fired at them as they took the back- 
track, from whence they had come. 

The dead man proved to be Tom O'Phalliard. 
He breathed a few times after being carried into 
the house. 



144 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Now Garrett and posse took up the trail in the 
deep snow, after daylight. 

Twelve miles out they came to a dead horse, 
which had been wounded in the stomach the night 
previous. 

From now on two of the gang were mounted on 
one pony, which made their progress slow. 

Towards midnight that night a one-room rock 
house loomed up ahead, and the, trail in the snow 
ended there, showing that the gang were inside 
the cabin. 

Now the posse rode behind a high hill and built 
a fire. 

Just before daylight Pat Garrett and Lee Hall 
walked to the cabin afoot. They lay down along 
the west wall, near the corner, from whence the 
door could be covered with their rifles. Outside 
of this door stood four shivering ponies, the ropes 
around their necks being on the inside. 

At the first peep of day one man walked out of 
the cabin, and the sheriff commanded him to 
throw up his hands. He jumped back towards the 
door, and received two bullets through the body. 
Then with his hands up he walked to Garrett and 
Hall saying: "I wish, I wish!" and fell over dead. 
This man proved to be Charlie Bowdre. 

Now the gang inside began pulling one of the 
ponies inside through the door-way. "^Hien half 
way in Garrett sent a bullet through the pony's 
heart. This blocked up the entrance. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 145 

"Billy the Kid" already had his little race mare 
inside, and it was their intention to pull the bal- 
ance of the ponies inside, and then make a dash 
out of the door-way for liberty. 

Now the sheriff and the "Kid" opened up a 
conversation, they passed jokes back and forth. 

There were no windows in the cabin, and the 
gang tried to pick portholes through the thick 
stone walls, with their guns and knives, but this 
proved a failure. 

All that day and the following night the gang 
held out without food, water or fire. 

The next day they decided to surrender. "Billy 
the Kid ' ' was the last to come out with hands up. 
There were only four of them left: Billy "Wilson, 
Tom Picket, lludabaugh, and the "Kid." 

On arrival m Ft. Sumner the sheriff sent part 
of our boys to White Oaks, while he took Jim 
ICast, Tom Emory, and Frank Stewart with him 
to the railroad, at Las Vegas. There they boarded 
a train for Santa Fe, where the prisoners were 
put in the penitentiary for safe-keeping. 

In Las Vegas a mob was formed to hang "Billy 
the Kid," but ihey were stood off until the tram 
could pull out. 

After the return of Tom Emory and Jim East, 
Bob Roberson decided, as the "Kid" was behind 
prison walls, to return home. I had concluded to 
stay until Spring, and gather up any LX cattJe 
that mi£-ht be in the country. 



146 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

As Jim East wished to return to Tascosa, and 
run for sheriff of Oldham County, Texas, I al- 
lowed him to go back mth the Roberson crowd. I 
also let Lee Hall and Cal Polk go. As Tom Emory 
wished to stay with me Roberson gave his consent. 

At that time none of us knew that Tom Emory 
was an escaped convict from the penitentiary in 
Huntsville, Texas, under an assumed name. 

About thirty years later Emory's wealthy 
brother in Texas made a deal with the Governor 
to grant him a pardon. It was necessary that Tom 
go back to prison, in order to be pardoned. He 
spent one night in the penitentiary and then went 
to live with his brother. He afterwards died. 

I finally received several hundred dollars of ex- 
pense money from Mr. Moore, with orders to stay 
in the country as long as I wished. 

We continued to feed our neighbors stolen beef 
— not exactly stolen, but butchered according to 
the Texas custom. 

Well do I remember of "Shanghai" Pierce 
once riding into our camp, when one of his ani- 
mals was being butchered; he said: "Boys, the 
day is coming when every man will have to eat 
his own beef. ' ' That day came before we old-time 
cowboys had time to realize it. 

About the first of February I took Tom Emory 
with me and rode to Ft. Stanton to examine the 
hides in Pat Coglin'e slaughter house there, he 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 147 

liaviiig the contract to furnisli the soldiers with 
beef. 

Emory was mounted on his grey horse, while 
I rode one of the work mules, a dandy saddle ani- 
mal. 

We first went to the town of Lincoln and secur- 
ed the services of Johnny Hurley — afterwards 
killed by outlaws — as a witness in case we found 
any LX hides at Ft. Stanton. 

In searching the Cohgiin slaughter house, in 
charge of *'01d Papen" we found many LX hides 
— some freshly butchered. These were taken and 
stored. 

Now I decided to see the "King of Tularosa," 
as Pat Cohgiin was called, and warn him not to 
kill any more LX cattle. 

From Ft. Stanton we rode over the White 
Mountains to the Mescalero Apache Agency, then 
in charge of Major Wm. H. H. Llewellin, now a 
prominent la^vyer of Las Cruces, New Mexico. 

Here Major Llewellin told of John S pass- 
ing through the agency a short time previous, 
with a herd of Texas cattle, bound for the west. 
The fact of the herd being driven in a hurry, and 
through deep snow, made it look as though they 
might be stolen cattle. Hence I concluded to fol- 
low their trail. 

On arriving in Tularosa one night I attended a 
Mexican fandango, (dance) and found a Mexican 
who had piloted the John S herd across the 



148 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

"AVliite Sands." I had him mark out some of the 
brands on paper. Among them he drew the LX 
brand, which made me more determined to stay on 
the trail. 

At the Cohglin store in Tularosa I learned that 
Pat Cohglin had gone west on trail of 300 of his 
cattle, stolen by Tom Cooper, one of ''Billy the 
Kid's'- gang. 

Here I sent Tom Emory back to White Oaks 
to tell the boys to lay there nntil my return. Then 
a young Texan, by the name of Sam Coleman, and 
I started across the ''AVhite Sands" desert, for 
Las Cruces, on the Rio Grande. I had met Cole- 
man in Texas. He was now going to Arizona to 
grow up with the country, which he did. 

Arriving iii Las Cruces I found the ''King of 
Tularosa," returning from his unsuccessful chase 
after Tom Cooper. He was a large, fine looking 
old Irishman, with the "ould sod" love for red 
"licker." 

On telling him of finding^ the LX hides in his 
slaughter house, and of my intentions to search 
his range for LX cattle on my return, he promised 
not to butcher any more. If I would wait until 
April the first before rounding up his cattle, as 
he didn't want them disturbed until grass be- 
came green in the spring. I promised, not realiz- 
ing he was playing a "dirty Irish trick" on me. 

Now I spent a few days in Las Cruces, under 
an assumed name, working in with the notorious 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 149 

' ' Hurricane Bill, ' ' and his tough gang, to find out 

more about the John S herd of cattle. I had 

learned that ''Hurricane Bill" had just arrived 
from Tombstone, Arizona. On making his acquain- 
tance he told me of this John S herd having 

arrived in Tombstone before his departure from 
there. 

"Hurricane Bill" and his chum, "Baldy" John- 
son, wanted me to join their gang. They said they 
were making big money stealing cattle, and selling 
them to Johnny Kinney who ran a slaughter house 
in Rincon, forty miles above Las Cruces, then the 
terminus of the iVtchison, Topeka and Santa Fe 
railroad, building south into El Paso. 

Later I met this Johnny Kinney and he invited 
me to accompany him to a swell Mexican wedding 
in La Mesilla, three miles from Las Cruces. This 
Mexican wedding gave me my first champagne 
headache. 

Now I wrote to Mr. Moore about the John 
S — — herd, and advised him to send a good man 
to Tombstone, Arizona, by rail and stage, to in- 
vestigate the matter. He sent John W. Poe, a 
deputy IT. S. Marshall from Ft. Elliot, Texas. But 

when he arrived in Tombstone the John S 

herd had been sold and scattered to the four 
w^inds of Heaven — hence Mr. Poe had his trip for 
nothing. 

I started back to White Oaks. One night was 
spent in Tularosa. The next morning I started for 



150 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the Pat Coligliu cattle ranch on Three Rivers — 
now the property of U. S. Senator A. B. Fall — a 
distance of twenty miles. 

On the way there I met a lone horse-man. He 
introduced himself to me as Johnny Reily. Thirty 
five years later I was reading a magazine, on the 
front porch of the De Vargas Hotel, in Santa Fe, 
wlien an old gentleman passed me on his way into 
the hotel. I looked up, and our eyes met. He 
said: "Say, didn't I meet you in 1881 on the road 
between Tularosa and Three Rivers?" 

I mention this to show the fine memory of some 
human beings. 

Now Johnny Reily, the wealthy cattle man re- 
siding in the El Paso Club at Colorado Springs, 
Colorado, sat down beside me to "hark back" to 
the bloody Lincoln County war, in which he took 
a prominent part. 

He told of one incident to show the cheap re- 
gard for human life in that noted war. He said 
]ie and Jimmie Dolan owned a store near Ft. Stan- 
ton, and had been at war with "Billy the Kid" and 
his crowd. One night the "Kid" and some of his 
warriors pitched camp in the hills near their 
store. 

Early the next morning the "Kid" sent one of 
his men to the store with a peace treaty to be 
signed by Reily and Dolan. 

After the paper was signed they all went across 
the road to a saloon, to take a drink. A drummer 



A LUNE STAR COWBOY 151 

from the east, who had just sold them a bill of 
goods, accompanied them to the saloon. 

AVhile filling the glasses to take a drink the 
traveling man criticised ''Billy the Kid" and his 
lawless bnnch. Here "Billy the Kid's" man told 
him to keep quiet, as he was not in the civilized 
east. He replied that as an American citizen he 
had a right to criticise lawlessness. 

He hadn 't more than finished the sentence when 
the "Kid" man shot him dead, Eeily said he and 
Dolan started to run to the door, but the fellow 
leveled his pistol at them saying: "Finish your 
drink, boys, don't let a little thing like this excite 
you". They finished the drink, and were glad to 
get back to the store alive. 

At the Pat Cohglin ranch I put up for the 
night, and was royally treated by Mr. and Mrs. 
George Nesbeth, the couple who looked after the 
cooking and ranch work. A Mexican was in charge 
of the live-stock. 

During the evening Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth told 
me of how they were present when Pat Cohglin 
made a deal with "Billy the Kid" to buy all the 
Panhandle, Texas, cattle that he could steal and 
deliver to him at Three Rivers. 

The next morning when ready to start for White 
Oaks, by way of the wagon road, around the 
mountains, the Mexican foreman told me that I 
could save ten miles by taking a trail over the 
high mountain range. He agreed to send one of 



152 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

his Mexican cowboj's to put me on the right trail. 
I Accepting his kind offer we started. 

AVlien about five miles up the mountain side a 
plain trail was struck, and the pilot returned to- 
wards home. 

About an hour later the trail made a bend to 
the left, and to save time I cut across to strike it 
further up the mountain. This move, no doubt, 
saved my life, as assassins were laying for me a 
short distance ahead on the trail. 

Finally three shots were fired in quick su(?ces- 
sion, and my mule lunged forward, slipping on 
the ice covered ground. She fell on her side throw- 
ing me over an eight foot cliff. My pistol was 
hanging to the saddle-horn, but it was grabbed 
and pulled out of the scabbard as I went off the 
saddle. 

AYith the pistol ready for action I lay quiet for 
a few moments, thinking the would-be assassins 
might show up. I then crawled up the cliff just in 
time to see two men running over a ridge, a few 
hundred yards distant. They were afoot, and only 
in sight a minute. No doubt they thought I was 
killed, and were running back to where their 
mounts had been left. 

The mule was found a couple of hundred yards 
up the mountain with her front leg fast in the 
bridle-rein. The ground was covered mth blood, 
wliich had flown from the wound in her breast. 

On investigation I found that one bullet had 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 153 

ploughed a furrow through the hind tree of my 
saddle, and another went through a blanket tied 
behind the saddle. 

The mule was not badly wounded, hence I reach- 
ed AVhite Oaks about dark, after an absence of 
about two weeks. 

Over thirty years later my cowboy friend, John 
P. Meadows, of Tularosa, new Mexico, told me 
the secret of this attempted assassination. He 
had learned the facts in the case from Mexicans 
living at Three Rivers. Pat Cohglin had paid 
them to kill me, to prevent prosecution for the LX 
hides found in his slaughter house. 

At this writing John P. Meadows is the owner 
of the Cohglin block in Tularosa, he having ac- 
quired it after Cohglins death, a few years ago. 

For the next month we took life easy in the 
lively town of White Oaks, and continued to eat 
fresh beef. The only brand we looked for, in se- 
lecting an animal for slaughter, was fat. 

The town supported a weekly newspaper. The 
Golden Era, hence we kept posted on local af- 
fairs. One of the boys then on the Golden Era 
force, Emerson Hough, has attained a world-wide 
reputation as a writer. 

Soon after my return to camp '^ Big- foot Wal- 
lace" (Prank Clifford) and I rode out in the hills 
to get a steer for slaughter. He was butchered in 
the edge of town, and the cook, Francisco, hauled 
the meat to our quarters in the mess-wagon. 



154 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

On entering our picket shack, one of the boys 
told ''Big- foot Wallace" that the town school 
master, Sheldon, was hunting him with a gun, to 
settle a difficulty they had got into that morning. 

''Big foot" had just sat down to eat his supper. 
Jumping up he remarked: "Well I will go and 
Jiunt him!" So saying he pulled his Colts pistol 
out of the scabbard, lying on the floor, and 
stuck it in his right boot. Then he started down 
town. I tried to j^ersuade him to wait until after 
supper, when I would go with him, but he was too 
angry to wait. 

Soon we heard six shots fired in cj[uick succes- 
sion, and a moment later, two louder shots. 

Jumping on my pony bare-back I ran down 
town. Finding "Bog-foot" surrounded by a big 
crowd of men, I advised him to jump on, behind 
me, on the pony's back and return to camp, which 
he did. 

He explained matters by saying that he met 
Sheldon and another man walking up the street 
towards him. On meeting, he asked Sheldon if he 
was hunting for him. 

Now 'Sheldon drew a pocket pistol and opened 
fire. "Big-foot" reached down to his boot-top to 
get his gun, but found that the leg of his pants 
had slipped down over the gun. 

By the time he got the pants leg up, and the pis- 
tol out, Sheldon had emptied his pistol and was 
running down the street. Just as he turned a 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 155 

corner "Big-foot" fired two shots at Mm, one of 
them knocking a button off his coat, and putting 
a hole in it. 

None of Sheldon's bullets had hit the target. 

The next morning ''Big-foot" received a sum- 
mons from Justice of the Peace Frank Lea, to ap- 
pear in his Court, on the charge of attempted mur- 
der, at 10 a. m. 

We all mounted and rode down town. I em- 
ployed lawyer John Y. Hewett — still a resident of 
White Oaks— to defend ''Big-foot." 

There were five of us in the crowd, and we wore 
our six-shooters and bowie-knives into the court 
room. 

"Pinto Tom," the town marshall, demanded 
that we take off our fire-arms while court was in 
session. This request was refused, then he called 
on Judge Lea to make us put up the guns. 

Now I called "Pinto Tom" to step outside with 
me, which he did. There I told him that he was 
connnittiug suicide, as the boys were ready to fill 
him full of holes if he persisted any further. This 
settled the matter, and the case proceeded. "Big- 
foot" was cleared of the charge. 

Sheldon was_ never arrested for his part in the 
shooting scrape — possibly because he did such 
poor shooting, which convinced Judge Lea that he 
was harmless. 

Two years later poor Sheldon was hung by a 



156 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

mob in Socorro, on the Rio Grande river. He had 
been thrown into jail to sober up, that night. 

The only other occupants of the jail were young- 
Ethan Allen, of White Oaks, and a negro. To- 
wards morning a mob of Mexicans broke into the 
jail and liberated the negro, hanging young Allen 
and the White Oaks school-master to a near by 
tree. This was done to spite the "Gringoes" 
(Americans) for hanging the Baca brothers a 
short time previous. 

On the night before the hanging of Sheldon, 
"Big-foot" Wallace and Ethan Allen had hold up 
and robbed a big store in Los Lunas, near Socor- 
ro. "Big-foot made his escape by swimming the 
raging Rio Grande river, amidst a shower of bul- 
lets from the law-officers. Ethan Allen being cap- 
tured, and thrown in jail with Sheldon and the 
negro. 

"Big-foot" reached Old Mexico, and made his 
home there until a few years ago when he was 
shot and killed, according to the reports received 
by me. 

On reaching Old Mexico "Big-foot" wrote me 
a letter, enclosing his photograph, which is re- 
tained as a relic of the wild and wooly cattle days. 

Finally I received a confidential letter from Mr. 
George Nesbeth, on the Pat Cohgiin ranch, stat- 
ing that Mr. Cohgiin was not keeping the promise 
made to me, not to butcher any more LX cattle. 
The letter went on to state that he was trying to 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 157 

get them all butchered before the first of April. 

Now I got busy and sent Emory and Chambers 
to three Rivers with the mess-wagon, while "Big- 
foot" and I rode to Ft. Stanton to search the Coh- 
glin slaughter house. We found five freshly but- 
chered LX hides — the ones previously butchered 
having evide;itly been hauled off and hidden. 

From Ft. Stanton we made a hard ride over the 
White Mountains for the Cohglin ranch, arriving 
there in the night. 

Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth got up out of bed and 
cooked us a warm meal. 

Early next morning the balance of my outfit ar- 
rived, then we cut out five large LX steers from 
Bill Gentry's herd. Gentry, the foreman, refused 
to give them up without orders from Pat Cohglin. 
But we told him that if he wanted war we were 
ready. He had seven Mexican cowboys with him. 

Now we spent three days rounding up the Coh- 
glin range, only finding three more LX steers. 
Then we returned to White Oaks, taking with us 
one of Cohglin 's fattest steers, which was butch- 
ered in AVhite Oaks for the benefit of our meat- 
loving friends there. 

Now we started towards home, rounding up 
cattle on small ranches through the Patos Moun- 
tains, then the Van Sickle range, now the large 
Block ranch, on the north side of Capitan Moun- 
tains. 

From here we went to Los Palos Springs, where 



158 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the tough little town of Arabella now stands. 
Thence to Roswell, on the Pecos River. 

Roswell was a town with two stores, one owned 
l)y that whole-souled Missourian, Capt. J. C. Lea, 
a bother of Judge Frank Lea of White Oaks, and 
the other by a Mr. Cosgrove. 

Here we laid over a week to wait until John 
Chisum started the spring round-up on his 
"Jingle-bob" range, containing about 60,000 cat- 
tle. 

During this time we attended dances on Pump- 
kin Row, Avhere a bunch of Texans had settled a 
few miles south of Roswell. 

At his home ranch, on south Spring River, 
John Chisum had built a new frame dwelling, 
under which flowed a sparkling irrigation stream 
to water the young orchard just planted. 

On the front porch if this new house I used to 
sit for hours talking to Cattle King John Chisum. 
His whole heart seemed wrapped up in this large 
young orchard. It is now the home of Ex-Gover- 
nor Herbert J. Hagerman — hence Mr. Chisum 
planted the orchard for others to enjoy, as he died 
a few years later. 

When the Chisum round-up started south to the 
Texas line, a distance of nearly 200 miles, to be- 
gin rounding up to brand calves, we followed. 

I left Tom Emory in Roswell to guard our 
small bunch of steers. He made liis home with 
Capt. J. C. Lea, and during the daytime grazed 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 159 

tlie steers on the grassy flat in front of the Lea 
Store. Now that grassy flat is covered with large 
business blocks, with paved streets, as Roswell 
has grown to be an up-to-date little city, with 
about 7,000 population. 

On our way down the Pecos River we camped 
for dinner one day, on the west bank of the stream 
— near where the little city of Carlsbad is now lo- 
cated. 

The river was bank-full from melted snow at its 
head. We were sitting on the ground near the 
water's edge, with plates on our laps, eating din- 
ner, when a man rode up on a black horse, he 
said: ''Say, boys, did you hear the news?" 

When I replied "No." he continued: 

"Billy the Kid" has killed his two guards in 
Lincoln and escaped." 

At that moment "Big-foot Wallace" gave a 
Comanche Indian yell, saying: "Hurrah for 
"Billy the Kid " Then he dived headlong into 
the muddy water of the Pecos. He had on his 
boots, spurs, leather leggins and six-shooter, with 
a belt of cartridges. When he came to the surface 
he yelled again: "hurrah for the Kid." Then he 
swam ashore and wrung the water from his 
clothes. 

This stranger didn't know the full particulars 
of the "Kid's" escape, but on our return to Ros- 
well, two weeks later, we found out all about it. 

We finally started up the river with our ten LX 



160 A LONE STAR COWBO\ 

steers, having' found two near the Chismn home 
ranch. 

Six miles above the abandoned Post of Ft. Sum- 
ner, at Sunnyside, I went ahead with the mess- 
wagon to buy horse-feed and grub. 

On riding up to the platform, in front of the 
store, I dismounted, and pulling my Winchester 
rifle out of the saddle scabbard I walked into the 
open door. I had lost a screw out of the rifle, and 
wanted to buy another that would fit. 

As I entered the door several men went run- 
ning out of the rear entrance. There was no one 
left in the store but the proprietor, who seemed 

g-reatly excited. He said: "Well, I'll be d d! 

we thought you was "Billy the Kid." You look 
just like him. "Then the store man went to the 
rear entrance and called out : ' ' Come back boys, 
its a false alarm." 

Others had previously told me that I looked like 
"Billy the Kid." Now I felt convinced that it must 
be true. 

These men had heard of "Billy the Kid's es- 
cape, after killing his two guards. 

I then returned to Ft. Sumner and laid over to 
attend a Mexican dance that night. 

Mrs. Charlie Bowdre — whose husband was 
killed by Pat Garrett and Lee Hall — attended 
this dance. She being a good-looking young Mexi- 
can woman, I danced with her often. 

When the dance broke up liefore daylight 1 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 161 

accompanied Mrs. Bowdre to her two-room adobe 
lionse. I tried to persuade her to allow me to go 
inside and talk awhile. Then I bade her goodnight. 
On meeting her the coming fall she told me the 
reason for her not letting me enter the house. That 
"Billy the Kid" was in hiding there, at the time. 
Now we struck out east for Portales Lake, on 
the west edge of the Staked Plains. 

We camped one night at Stinking Springs, and 
slept in the rock house where "Billy the Kid" and 
his gang held out for about two days and nights, 
without fire, food or water. 

Lon Chambers and Tom Emory pointed out to 
"Big-foot" and me the spot where Charlie Bow- 
dre fell, when hit by bullets from Garrett's and 
Hall's rifles. 

The stone walls inside showed the marks of 
where the gang tried to pick port-holes. 

Arriving at Los Portales Lake — near where the 
thriving county-seat town of Portales, New 
Mexico, is now located — we pitched camp at "Billy 
the Kid's cave." It was here at a large fresh wa- 
ter spring — the lake being salty — that the "Kid" 
and gang made their headquarters, while stealing 
LX steers for Pat Cohglin. 

This "cave" was not a cave — just an overhang- 
ing rock cliff, with a stone corral around it, on 
three sides. 

A few years later this "cave" and fresh water 
spring were taken up, as a small cattle ranch, by 



162 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

a cowboy friend of mine, Doak Good. He after- 
wards killed a man, which broke him up in busi- 
ness, as it took his small bunch of cattle to pay 
lawyers fees, and other costs in the case. 

From now on our misery began, gathering Can- 
adian River cattle, which in past winters had 
strayed away, drifting south with the buffalo. 
They had become as wild as deer. 

Being short of horses we had to press the four 
work mules into service, to stand night-watch 
over the cattle. 

Further east there was a chain of fresh water 
lakes, on the head draws of the Yellow-house can- 
yon, a tributary of the Brazos River, and around 
them we found many cattle. 

After leaving these lakes we were two days and 
nights without water. 

The first habitation we struck, since leav- 
ing Ft. Sumner, was Walter Dyer's log house 
on the head of Paladuro Canyon, a distance of 
about 200 miles. 

Now over that same stretch of country dwell 
thousands of prosperous ''fool-hoe-men," and 
their happy families. 

The chances are some of these settlers, east of 
Los Portales Lake, found the remains of a twelve 
year old boy, and counted it as another unsolved 
mystery of the Llano Estacado. 

In the fall of 1887 Bill McCoy, a Panhandle 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 163 

cowboy, whom I knew as Bill Gatlin, shot and kill- 
ed deputy sheriff Gunn, of Lusk, Wyoming. He 
was tried and sentenced to hang for the crime. 
Just before he was to be hanged, Tom Nichols, 
alias Tom Hall, foreman of the Keeline cattle 
ranch on the Larmie river, in Wyoming, paid a 
tough eastern safe-blower $500.00 to liberate Mc- 
Coy. He committed a petty crime in Cheyenne and 
was thrown in jail. Then his time was spent with 
steel saws, concealed in the soles of his shoes, to 
liberate the prisoners. 

On the night of the liberation Tom Hall was at 
a designated place, with an extra horse and saddle 
to take McCoy to the Keeline ranch, where he was 
kept hidden out for a while. 

Finally McCoy pulled out with two good hors- 
es, going through the state of Utah into New 
Mexico. 

In Utah he picked up a twelve year old boy who 
wanted to be a cowboy outlaw. He was allowed to 
ride the extra horse. 

On arriving in Santa Fe their mounts were 
played out. Gatlin then hired a buggy and team to 
drive out in the country. When a few miles out 
of the city the saddles were put onto the buggy 
horses, and a hard ride made to the Los Portales 
Lake, where then lived Len Woodruff, a former 
LX cowboy. 

Gatlin and Woodruff were warm friends, as 
more than once they ''shot up" the town of Tas- 



164 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

cosa together. In one of these shootings Len 
Woodruff was shot all to pieces — being made a 
cripple for life. 

Bill Gatlin told Woodruff that he had foolishly 
confessed to this boy, that he was under sentence 
of death, and for tliat reason he wanted to 
''shake" him. 

They had tried to persuade the boy to quit 
Gatlin, as he didn't want him with him, but he 
wouldn't listen to the advice. He said Gatlin had 
]jromised to take him to South America and that 
he had to keep his promise. 

Woodruff kept the boy in the tent until Gatlin 
had been gone about half an hour. Then he was 
turned loose, as he had promised to make his 
home with Len Woodruff. 

Now Woodruff went to work about his chores. 
Soon he looked to the south-westward and saw the 
boy on his horse running on Gatlin 's trail. 

Two days later, while out hunting lost horses. 
Woodruff found this boy's horse and saddle. The 
saddle was covered with blood. 

When telling me this storj^ Woodruff said he 
felt sure Gatlin had shot the boy from his horse, 
after he had overtaken him, (Gatlin). 

I was already familiar with this Bill McCoy 
murder case, as the district attorney, Walter 
Stoll, of Cheyenne, Wyoming, had employed me 
as a detective to investigate the matter. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 165 

As a supposed Texas outlaw I spent a couple of 
months on the Keeline ranch. 

I traced Bill McCoy to New Orleans where he 
shipped on a sailing vessel for Buenos Ayres, 
South America — thence 1200 miles onto the Pam- 
pas, where he joined a gang of Texas outlaws, 
some of them being chums of Tom Hall. 

In a few years Gatlin became tired of South 
America and returned to the United States. He 
finally settled down and married in south-western 
New Mexico, where he raised a family, and be- 
came a well-to-do cattle man. 

The chances are Bill Gatlin, alias Bill McCoy, 
would sweat blood did he know that I knew his 
present name and address, for the hangman's 
noose would stare him in the face. 

If he really did kill that boy he should be hanged 
more than once. 

We arrived at the LX ranch on the 22nd day 
of June, with 2500 head of cattle, after an ab- 
sence of seven months. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A 3000 MILE HORSE-BACK RIDE. 

A TRUE ACCOUNT OF ''BILLY THE KID'S" 

ESCAPE, AND DEATH. 

On returning to the ranch I found that we had 
no boss, as Mr. Moore had quit to look after his 
own cattle. 



166 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Mr. David T. Beals, who was at the Ranch, 
compHmented me on my seven months work. Ho 
said, on the strtngth of my letters, they had sent 
John AV. Poe to Lincohi County, New Mexico, to 
prosecute Pat Cohglin. 

Mr. Beals presented me with a fine-blooded colt, 
which I afterwards sold for $200 to the Reverend 
Carhart, of Clarendon. He also promised me that 
when his company met, to select a new manager 
for the LX ranch, he would present my name, and 
recommend me for the position. 

John Hollicott, a slow, easy-going- Scotch cow- 
boy was selected as general manager of the ranch, 
to take Moore's place, a few months later. 

Mr. Beals to id me that other members of his 
company objected to me, as being too wild and 
reckless for such a responsible position. 

As the "fool hoe-men" were settling the coun- 
try around Mobeta, Mr. Beals began buying up 
all land on the LX range, which bordered on 
streams, or took in watering j)laces, such as lakes 
and springs. But he was only allowed to purchase 
every two sections of land out of three. Every 
third section being State School Land, which could 
only be take a up by actual settlers. The State 
laiifls, and the Gunter & Munson sections, were 
for sale, and these constituted his purchases. 

In the early 70s the State of Texas had made a 
deal with Gunter and Munson, of Sherman, Tex- 
as, to survey most of the Texas Panhandle. Their 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 167 

pay being a deed to every third section (640 acres) 
of land. 

There being about twenty-five counties in the 
Panhandle, you can imagine the number of sec- 
tions these two Sherman lawyers owned, after the 
survey was finished. 

In the early '80 's the state deeded 3,000,000 
acres of land, adjoining New Mexico, to the 
"Merchant Prince," J. V. Farwell, and his Chi- 
cago associates, as pay for the erection of a new 
capitol building in Austin. 

On this large tract of land the Capitol Syndi- 
cate established the XIT cattle ranch, which be- 
came one of the largest in the Panhandle. 

When the "fool hoe-men" began to flock into 
the Panhandle, and land could be sold for $20 and 
more per acre, the Capitol Syndicate cut up their 
large holdings into small farms, cutting down the 
number of cattle accordingly. 

I spent the balance of the summer in charge of 
a branding crew. 

During the middle part of October a letter was 
received from John W. Poe, for Lon Chambers 
and me to be in Lincoln, New Mexico, to appear 
as witnesses against Pat Cohglin, on the 7th of 
November. Hence we had to hurry, as it meant a 
horse-back ride of about 600 miles. 

I was instructed by Mr. Erskine Clement, who 
was in charge of outside matters, to put in the 
coming winter scouting along the Texas and Pa- 



168 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

cific railroad, at the foot of the South Staked 
Plains, in search of strayed LX cattle. 

After a hard ride across country, part of the 
time without water, we reached Lincoln in the 
night, as per Mr. Poe's instructions, so that Pat 
Cohglin wouldn 't know we were to appear as wit- 
nesses against him. 

Mr..Poe had arranged for us to board with a 
Mr. Cline, twelve miles down the Hondo river, 
and keep in hiding until we were called as wit- 
nesses. 

On arriving at the Cline ranch, about daylight, 
we received a hearty welcome from Mr. Cline and 
his Mexican family. 

After being in hiding twelve days Mr. Poe rode 
down to tell us that Pat Cohglin had been grant- 
ed a change of venue to Dona Ana County. He 
instructed me to be in La Mesilla, on the Rio 
Grande, the first Monday in April, 1882, to attend 
court. He told Lon Chambers that he could return 
home, as he would not be needed, which he did. 

Now, mounted on '* Croppy" — a milk-white 
horse with both ears frozen off close to his head 
— with "Buckshot" for a pack animal, I started 
for Roswell, 

On arriving in Roswell I rode out a short dis- 
tance to sheriff Pat Garrett 's ranch, but found out 
that Mr. Garrett had gone to Dallas. Old man Ash 
Upson, who was living with the sheriff and his 
Mexican family, informed me that he had just re- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 169 

ceived a letter from Pat Garrett, with instruc- 
tions to meet him at Pecos Station, on the T. P. 
Ry. with the covered hack on a certain day. 

Mr. Upson and I decided to make this nearly 
two hundred miles trip together. He drove ahead 
with his covered rig and I followed with my pack 
outfit. But we pitched camp together at night. 

In riding along one day I passed a covered 
hack by the side of the road, and heard my name 
called. Then I rode over to the camp, a few rods 
distant, and found my friend. Clay Allison, the 
man-killer. He introduced me to his new wife, a 
young corn-fed Missouri girl. 

Of course I had to lay over for the noon-day 
lunch, so as to sample this Missouri Girl's cook- 
ing. 

Mr Allison was in search of a new location to 
settle down. He selected a ranch near Seven Elv- 
ers, and started a small cattle ranch. 

Several years later, while intoxicated, he fell off 
a wagon and broke his neck. Thus did the killer of 
eighteen men die with his boots on. 

On Christmas Eve, Ash and I put up for the 
night at the Jones ranch on Seven Rivers. Mr. 
and Mrs. Jones were warm friends of Mr. Upson's 
— hence they invited us to lay over Christmas and 
eat turkey dinner with them, which we did. We 
''shore" enjoyed the turkey, sweet-potatoes, 
pumpkin pie and egg-nog. 

On this trip Ash Upson told me the history of 



170 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

"Billy the Kid" — whom he had known from 
childhood. His true name was Billy Bonney; he 
was born on the 23rd of November 1859, in New 
York City. 

After his father's death, his mother married a 
Mr. Antrim, who soon after moved to Santa Fe, 
New Mexico, where Ash Upson was in the news- 
paper business. 

In Santa Fe Mr. and Mrs. Antrim opened a res- 
taurant, and had Mr. Upson as a boarder. The 
''Kid" then being only ten years old. 

A few years later Ash Upson and Mr. Antrim 
moved to Silver City. 

Soon after "Bill}^ the Kid" went on a trip to 
Ft. Union, and killed his first man, a negro sol- 
dier. 

On the LX ranch, in the fall of 78 the "Kid" 
told me that his first killing was a negro soldier 
in Ft. Union. 

On returning to Silver City he killed a black- 
smith in a personal encounter. Now he skipped 
out for Old Mexico to avoid arrest. 

In the city of Chihuahua, Mexico, he killed and 
robbed a Mexican monte dealer. 

He then "hit the high places" for Texas, fin- 
ally arriving in Lincoln County, New Mexico, 
where he went to work for an Englishman by the 
name of Tunstall. 

In the spring of 1878 a mob, headed by Morton, 
from the Rio Pecos, shot and killed Tunstall. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 171 

Now "Billy the Kid" swore that he would kill 
every man who had a hand in the murder of his 
friend, Tunstall. He made up a crowd of warriors 
consisting of Tom O'Phalliard, Henry Brown, 
Fred Wyatt, Sam Smith, Jim French, John Mid- 
dleton, R. M. Bruer, J. G. Skurlock, Charlie Bow- 
dre, Frank McNab and a fellow named McClosky, 
and started out to kill the murderers of Tunstall. 

This was the starting of the bloody Lincoln 
County war. Before the war ended Morton and his 
crowd were killed. 

Sheriff Brady undertook the job of breaking up 
the "Kid's" gang, and was killed by "Billy the 
Kid," He had shot him from behind an adobe 
wall, as he rode down the main street of Lincoln. 
As the sheriff lay in the road badly wounded 
"Billy the Kid" ran out from behind the adobe 
wall and shot him through the head. 

Now the whole county became a battle-ground, 
many good Citizens joining the "Kid's" gang. 

During this war "Billy the Kid" and a dozen 
of his men took refuge in lawyer McSween's resi- 
dence in Lincoln. In the night they were surroun- 
ded by thirty-five "Seven River Warriors," and 
two companies of United States Soldiers, under 
command of Col. Dudley of the ninth cavalry. 

The McSween residence was set afire. When 
the fire became too hot the "Kid" and his party 
dashed out of the kitchen door, shooting as they 
ran. "Billv the Kid" and Tom O'Phalliard were 



172 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the only ones who escaped without a scratch. Law- 
yer McSween lay dead with nine bullets in his 
body. 

Ash Upson had previously moved from Silver 
City to Lincoln County, hence he knew all about 
this local war. 

Ash and I arrived at Pecos station at three 
o 'clock on New Years Eve. We had been traveling 
slowly, as Pat Grarrett was not due to arrive at 
Pecos until after New Years. 

There being no accomodations at Pecos station 
Ash and I concluded to board the evening west- 
bound train for Toyah, twenty miles distant. Our 
horses being left in charge of a wolf-hunter. 

In Toyah we put up at the Alvarado Hotel, 
owned by a Mr. Newell. 

After supper Ash took in the town, while I re- 
mained at the hotel to enjoy the company of Mr. 
Newell's fifteen year old daughter, Miss Beulah. 

About midnight Ash returned to the hotel load- 
ed to his full capacity with fire-water, though he 
swore that he hadn't drunk an3i;liing but "Tom 
and Jerry." 

On New Years morning a big shooting match 
for turkeys was to take place in the edge of town, 
Miss Beulah expressed a wish that someone bring 
her a fat bird. Of course that meant me, so I pro- 
mised that she should have a few turkej's. 

The Justice of the Peace, JMr. Miller, had sent 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 173 

to Dallas for the turkeys, which had cost him $3 
each. 

When the shooting match started, a fat gobbler 
was put in an iron box, with only his head visible. 
The shooting to be done with pistols, off-hand, at 
a distance of thirty-five yards. Each shooter to 
pay twenty-five cents a shot, with a free shot to 
follow if he killed the tnrkey. 

I paid my twenty-five cents and was put down 
as number eleven. 

Ten men fired but the gobbler was still alive. 

Now my Colts 45 pistol was raised and off went 
the bird's head. Then another was put in the iron 
box, and his head went off, or at least fell over 
on the box. 

Here Judge Miller said he would have to bar 
me out from shooting any more. He explained that 
he had a large family to support, and that he 
ought, at least, to get his money back for his flock 
of turkeys. 

With the two gobblers on my shoulder I re- 
turned to the hotel and laid them at Miss Beulah's 
feet. Of course she thanked me. 

From now on I was known as the ^'turkey 
shooter." Many times in riding along the rail- 
road I was recognized by men on passing trains 
and hailed as the 'Hurkey shooter." They knew 
my crop-eared horse. 

That night we had a big tnrkey supper at the 
Alvarado Hotel, and a dance afterwards. 



174 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

There were ouly two young ladies at the dauce, 
Miss Beulah, and a Miss Lee. The balance being 
married ladies. 

During the whole night shots could be heard 
down town, fired by hilarious cowboys and rail- 
roaders. Much of this shooting being over the 
heads of frightened Chinamen, there being about 
a dozen in town. They left for El Paso on the 
first train, and it was said that Pig-tails steered 
clear of Toyah ever afterwards. 

A few days after New Years a telegram came 
to Ash from Pat Garrett, at Pecos Station, tell- 
ing him to come on the first train, as he was in a 
hurry to get home. 

Ash being in bed drunk, he got me to answer 
the message, which read : ' ' Can 't leave here ; owe 
every man in town." 

Soon another message came; it stated: "If you 
don't come on the first train I will strike out and 
leave you." 

This angered Mr. Upson, and he told me to 
write a reply just as dictated. With pencil in hand 
I wrote down the words, which were: ''Go to, hie, 
h — 1, d — m you." 

On receiving this message the sheriff came u]) 
on the first train and paid Upson's debts, then 
took the old man back with him. I never saw poor 
Ash Upson afterwards, as he died a few years la- 
ter. 

From Toyali I drifted east along the T. P. Ky. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 175 

onto the sontlierii edge of the Staked Plains, leav- 
ing the rail-road at Sand Hill Station, and circling 
around to the north-eastward, to bnffalo-hunters 
camps. It had been reported that as buffalo were 
getting scarce, stray cattle were being killed for 
their hides. But I satisfied myself that these re- 
ports wer(3 false. 

At Cedar Lake I made the acquaintance of two 
noted buffalo hunters, the Whaley brothers. I af- 
terwards met them in Big Springs, where they 
^rere waiting for the money from a shipment of 
buffalo hides. 

\V]ion this money, $600, reached them they be- 
gan drinking and gambling in Big Springs. 

One night they were '' bucking" monte — a Mex- 
ican game. The small red complected brother was 
sitting in a chair at the end of the table, while the 
other, a fine looking large man was up on the 
table, on his knees. 

An argument arose about a twenty-five cent 
bet, which had won. The small man picked up the 
money, claiming it was his. Then the other broth- 
er pulled his pistol and shot him through the 
heart. As he was falling he jerked out his pistol 
and shot the other man through the body. He ran 
out on the street and fell over dead. Thus ended 
the career of two of the best known buffalo hunt- 
ers on the Llano Estacado. 

I finally landed in Colorado City, at the head of 
the Colorado River, flat broke. 



176 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

AValkiiig into the largest store in town I intro- 
duced myself to the proprietor, Mr. ' ' Pete ' ' Sny- 
der, for whom the now prosperous town of Sny- 
der, Texas, was named. I asked for the loan of 
$50, until money from the LX ranch could reach 
me. Without any 'hums or haws' he pulled out the 
.amount and handed it to me. This shows the broad- 
gauge spirit of these old-time westerners. When 
my $200, post-office money-order, from Erskine 
Clement, arrived I repaid Mr. Snyder, 

I spent a couple of weeks riding over the large 
range owned by Lum Slaughter of Dallas, Texas. 

Now my face was turned westward for a 500 
mile ride to La Mesilla, New Mexico, to attend 
court. 

In Big Springs I lay two days with a burning 
fever. Realizing the importance of my presence 
in court, I got up out of a sick bed and continued 
my journey. 

After dark, just as a cold norther and sleet 
storm had sprung up, I rode up to a section house, 
and called, ' ' hello ! " A man came out to the gate, 
and I told him that I was sick, and wanted to stay 
there for the night. 

He kindly told me to go into the house, tliat ho 
v/ould put up my horses and feed them. 

On entering the door the blazing fire in the fire- 
place put new life into me. The lady sitting by the 
fire looked up, then gave a scream, which brought 
her husband on the run. She told him that I had 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 177 

small-pox. Looking at my face lie discovered that 
it was really covered with fresh small-pox sores. 
Small-pox was raging in Colorado City, but I 
never dreamt that I had contracted the dreaded 
disease. 

Now the gentleman told me that I would have 
to leave, although he hated to drive me out in the 
cold storm, then raging. 

My journey was continued, but on riding about 
five miles I could stand is no longer. The ponies 
were tied to a telegraph pole and I laid down with 
my saddle for a pillow. 

At daylight my journey was continued to the 
next section house, they being ten miles apart, 
along the railroad. 

Before riding up to the section house my face 
was tied up with silk handkerchiefs, so that the 
sores couldn't be seen. The section crew had just 
gone to work, and the man cook gave me a warm 
ineal, which was carried up stairs to be eaten 
alone, for fear the cook would discover the sores 
on my face, and run me away. No doubt the cook 
tlio light I was an outlaw, trying to keep my face 
hidden from view. I continued the trick of keep- 
ing my face tied up at every section house stop- 
ped at enroute. Hard rides were made to reach a 
doctor in Toyah. 

On reaching that town I rode up to Doctor Rob- 
erson's office and entered. This prominent rail- 
road doctor pronounced it a case of small-pox, but 



178 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

said the danger had passed, as my pulse was 
slightly above normal. He gave me some salve to 
dry up the sores on my face and shoulders, the 
only places on my body where the}'' had broken 
out. He also assured me that no one could con- 
tract the disease from me, as the fever had gone 
down. 

With my face covered with handkerchiefs, I 
rode up to the Alvorado Hotel, and was greeted 
by Miss Beulah, who was out on the front porch. 
She wanted to know what was the matter with my 
face, I told her that my mouth was covered with 
fever blisters. 

I hired a boy to care for my horses, and then 
w^ent to bed. Miss Beulah brought my meals into 
the room, but I put off eating them until after 
she left, so that she could not see the sores. The 
doctor had told me that I would be taken to the 
pest-house, where there were already several pa- 
tients, if it was discovered that I had small-pox. 

In riding the more than 200 miles from Big- 
Springs, several days had passed. 

A few days in bed at the Alvarado Hotel and 
my journey to El Paso was continued, after bid- 
ding Miss Beulah a last farewell. I have never 
seen this pretty little, tender hearted, girl since, 
although I have heard of her many times. She 
is now the wife of a well-to-do Texas cattle-man. 
I still keep and cherish the leather pocket-book 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 179 

she presented to me on New Years day, 1882. Her 
name and address being written on the inside. 

A ride of 100 miles bronght me to the Rio 
Grande River. That night I camped with a Mexi- 
can and his family, they being enronte to El 
Paso, from Lerado. 

Before retiring I moved my ponies to fresh 
grass, a few Imndred yards from camp, "Buck- 
shot" being staked out, and "Croppy" hobbled. 

Early next morning I discovered both of my 
horses gone. 1 tracked them to the river. On the 
opposite shore, in Old Mexico, I found moccasin 
tracks in the sand where the thieves had dis- 
mounted to get a drink of water from the river. 

Now I returned to camp and hired the Mexi- 
can's only saddle pony, his covered wagon being 
hauled by a yoke of oxen. I agreed to give him $10. 
a day for the use of the pony. 

The tracks of my two ponies were followed 
west to a range of mountains about thirty-five 
miles distant. In places I had to ride slowly in or- 
der to see the tracks. 

It was nearl}'" sun-down when I came in sight of 
a spring, near which were my ponies. "Buckshot" 
was staked out to grass and "Croppy" hobbled, 
just as I had left them the night before. 

For a wiiile I hid behind a hill, thinking the 
thieves would soon show themselves. Finally a 
shot was heard to the westward, about half a mile 



180 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

distant. I concluded the thieves had gone into the 
rough mountains to kill game for their supper. 

Now I took a drink from the cool spring and 
headad east, mounted on "Croppy." 

It seemed plain to me that two prowling In- 
dians, or Mexicans, afoot had discovered my pon- 
ies and rode them into Mexico. 

It was daylight when I arrived in camp. 

After breakfast I gave the Mexican $10 for the 
use of his pony, then struck out up the Rio Grande 
river. 

That night I jDut up with Charlie Wilson, in old 
Camp Rice, and the next night stopped in the 
l)eautiful Mexican town of San Elibario. Here I 
]aid over three days and searched a mountain 
range in Old Mexico for a herd of cattle which I 
was told might be stolen stock. I found the herd, 
but there were no Canadian river cattle in it. No 
doubt they were stolen stock from the way the 
three men in charge acted. 

I finally reached the adobe town of El Paso — 
now an u]vto-date, beautiful little city — one af- 
ternoon. 

In riding up the main street a tall man, with 
steel grey eyes, wearing a city marshall's star 
called me by name. He was standing on the edge 
of the sidewalk. I rode over to him and shook his 
outstretched hand, but I told him that I didn 't re- 
member of ever meeting him before. 

Now he told of stopping in mj^ camp two days. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 181 

in 1S78, to reload a lot of rifle and pistol shells. 
That he had been run out of Ft. Griffin, Texas, 
by the Vigilantes. Then I remembered him, I ask- 
ed what he did with the herd of sheep he stole 
after leaving my camp. This excited him, and he 
cautioned me to keep quiet; as some of the pass- 
ers-by, on the side-walk, might hear me. He in- 
vited me to dismount and take a drink with him, 
which I did. 

At a table in the rear part of the saloon we had 
a long talk, mixed with several drinks of liquor. 

This city guardian of the peace wanted to know 
how I found out that he had stolen the band of 
sheep, I explained that one of my cowboy chums 
met him on the Staked Plains driving the sheep 
south-westward, with the two Mexican boys as 
prisoners. That this chum reported the matter to 
me — as he had seen him in my camp, and suppos- 
ed he was an old friend of mine. 

This officer then told me of how he kept the two 
boys as prisoners, making them drive the 2000 
head of sheep, until they reached the breaks of 
the Pecos River in New Mexico, where they were 
given their two burros (Jackasses) and told to 
"hit the trail" over which they had come. 

I said: "Are you sure you didn't kill them, to 
prevent them giving the alarm?" 

With a laugh he said: "Trust that to me Char- 
lie, for you can bet that I made sure they wouldn't 
get help and follow me up. ' ' 



182 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

He then told of driving the sheep to the Pecos 
river, where he hired two sheep herders to help 
him drive the band to El Paso, where they were 
sold for one dollar a head, a total of $2000. 

This shows the carelessness of western towns 
in the selection of peace officers. I could cite doz- 
ens of cases where tough men were appointed 
marshals. 

These two Mexican boys were in their 'teens, 
and had been sent from northern New Mexico in- 
to the Texas Panhandle, by their parents, to 
guard these sheep. 

No doubt their bones were found by the ''fool 
hoe- men" who afterwards settled that part of the 
country. Thus adding another unsolved mystery of 
the great Llano Estacado. 

Over forty years later, in about the year 1913, 
I visited the city of El Paso and tried to find out 
the name of this sheep stealing officer ; I had for- 
gotten his name. 

City detective George Harold assisted me to 
find out who wore officers stars in the early' 80s. 
Through old-timers we learned that the names of 
the two marshals during that period were a IMr. 
Studenmeyer and John Sillman. 

Mr. Studenmeyer was a tall middle age man, 
who was killed in a pistol duel ^\itli the Manning 
brotliers. El Paso saloon men. I satisfied myself 
that he was not the sheep thief. 

We finally found a Mr. George H. Tucker who 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 1S3 

knew John Sillman in Ft. Griffin, Texas. He 
told of how he had made his escape from the Vigi- 
hmces there in 1878, that being the same year that 
the sheep thief stopped in my camp. 

Mr. Tucker informed ns that John Sillman had 
a bad record as a killer of men, and a cattle thief, 
in Ft. Griffin. That he was in partnership, in cat- 
tle stealing, with Johnny Larn, whom the A^igi- 
lantes shot to death while chained to the floor in 
jail. He said Sillman killed a man by the name 
of Cohen, and in some way was mixed np with the 
killing of seven men, whose bodies were thrown in 
the river. 

John Sillman in 1896 shot and killed the noted 
man-killer, Wesley Harding, while he was talking 
to the bar-keeper in one of the saloons in El Paso. 

Later, George Scarborough shot and killed Sill- 
man in the alley back of the Wigwam saloon in El 
Paso. 

I later received a letter from John P. Mead- 
ows in Tularosa, New Mexico, describing John 
Sillman. He had worked for him and his part- 
ner, Johnny Larn, on their ranch above Ft. Grif- 
fin in the early '70s. He described him as being 
over six feet tall and weighing about 180 pounds, 
with cold, steel grey eyes. This corresponded with 
my recollection of him. 

I made up my mind without a doubt that John 
Sillman had stolen the band of sheep, and murder- 
ed the two Mexican boys. 



184 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Mr. Meadows' letter stated that John Sillman 
murdered several Mexicans on the Hondo river 
in Lincoln County, New Mexico, 

No doubt when John Sillman murdered Weslev 
Harding, in cold blood, he thought no jury could 
be found to convict him for killing the worst man- 
killer Texas ever produced. But he, himself, was 
killed before the case came up for trial. 

Wesley Harding had the reputation of having 
killed thirty-one men. No other Texas man had 
such a high record, with tlie exception of Bill 
Longley, who was hanged. 

In the middle '70s the state of Texas offered a 
large reward for *'Wess" Harding, dead or alive. 
This caused him to hide out. 

A detective, who needed this reward, opened a 
store at Cedar Hill, in Gonzales County, near 
Harding's home. He was later appointed Post- 
master for that neighborhood. He kept track of all 
letters sent, or received, by Harding's wife. Most 
of these letters came,or went, to a certain town in 
Florida. 

Now, after being a merchant for two years, the 
detective had business in Florida. Harding was 
arrested and sent to the Huntsville Penitentiary 
for twenty-five years, for the killing of a sheriff. 

In the penitentiary the officers tried all kinds 
of schemes, even to whipping him with cato-nine- 
tails, to make ''Wess" work, but he refused to 
dirtv his hands at hard labor. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 1S5 

Now they tried the last resort, by placing him 
in a vat, to keep the water pumped out, or drown. 

After the pump-handle was put into ^'Wes's" 
hands the water was turned on. 

In a moment, when the guard in charge return- 
ed, he found the water over Harding's head, and 
bubbles coming to the surface, showing that no ef- 
fort had been made to work the pump-handle. 

Now Harding was given an easy job as clerk, 
and served his sentence out. 

After gaining his freedom he moved, with his 
family, to El Paso — there to be murdered by John 
Sillman. 

Detectiv^es George Harold, who assisted me in 
trying to run down the identity of the officer who 
stole the herd of sheep, is, no doubt, the slayer of 
the notorious Sam Bass, although a Mr. Ware got 
the credit for it. 

Mr. Ware has the reputation of killing this out- 
law, as he was the leader of the posse who roun- 
ded up the gang in Round Rock, Texas. 

In this battle Sam Bass and his chum, Barnes 
were killed, Dad Jackson and Underwood escap- 
ed. Oh the officers side Grimes was killed, and 
Morris wounded. 

Sam Bass was the hero of more young Texas 
cowboys than any other "bad" man, and the song 
about him was the most popular. It started out 
thus: 



186 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

' ' Sam Bass was boru iii Indiana, 
It was called his native home. 
And at the age of seventeen, 
Young Sam began to roam. 
He first went out to Texas, 
A cowboy for to be ; 
And a kinder hearted fellow 
You'd scarcely ever see." 

This song seemed to have a quieting effect on 
a herd of long-horns during thunder storms. Pos- 
sibly the sweet, musical tune had something to do 
with it. 

Along the Chisholm trail on a still night these 
favorite cowboy songs could be heard a long dis- 
tance, coming from the different herds bedded 
down for the night. 

While laying over in El Paso in 1882, I met 
John Sykes, a cowboy who drove *'up the Chis- 
holm trail" with me in 1876. He could cuss louder 
and longer than any cowboy in the outfit. 

He invitfd me to his residence to take dinner, 
and to meet his young wife. She was a handsome, 
dark haired girl, and had about succeeded in tam- 
ing her loud-month husband. 

About thirty years hiter I met Jolin Sykes in 
Las Cruces, New Mexico, and found him to be a 
very tame old man, who had forgotten how to 
"cuss" — thanks to his wife's training. He now 
owned an alfalfa farm in the Eio Grande valley, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 187 

between Las Cruces and El Paso. He has grown 
children. 

I also met Wess Adams, another chum, in El 
Paso, in 1882. He was the cowboy stabbed by a 
buffalo hunter in Dodge City, Kansas, in 1877. 
He now belonged to "Curley Bill's" outlaw gang, 
and said they were making all kinds of money. He 
tried to induce me to join the gang. I have never 
heard of him since. 

On the first Mondaj^ in April I appeared in 
Judge Bristol's Court in La Mesilla, three miles 
from Las Cruces. 

John W. Poe and Pat Garrett were there, and 
so were Mr. and Mrs. George Nesbeth. 

Pat Cohglin had employed Col. Rynerson and 
Thornton to defend him in the court. 

Mr. Poe had secured Attorney A. J. Fountain, 
to assist Prosecuting Attorney Newcomb. 

Several years later A. J. Fountain was murder- 
ed at the White Sands, between Tularosa and Las 
Cruces. He was on his way home to Las Cruces, 
from Lincoln, where he had been attending court. 
With him in the buggy was a young son, about 
thirteen years of age. 

They stopped for the night in Tularosa. The 
next morning they started for their sixty mile 
drive across the White Sands desert. 

Late in the afternoon Fountain met the Mexi- 
can mail carrier, who advised him to turn back, as 
he had seen a gang of suspicious characters hid- 



188 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ing at the point of White Sands, near a watering!' 
place. 

This noted lawyer and high degree Mason told 
the mail carrier that it was of great importance 
that he be in Las Cruces the next day, so, for that 
reason, he would have to take a chance on beiiig 
murdered. 

When the mail carrier returned the next day 
he found Mr. Fountain's buggy by the side of the 
road, near where he had, on the previous day, 
seen the suspicious characters. 

Underneath the buggy was a pool of blood, and 
a trail of blood leading away from the buggy r - 
showing that the murderers had carried the body 
of Fountain away on one of the horses, attached 
to the buggy. 

When a posse was made up in Las Cruces and 
Tularosa the bloody trail was followed eastward 
towards the Guadalupe Mountains. 

A camping place was found where a meal had 
been cooked. Around the camp fire were tracks 
made by young Fountain, showing that he was 
still alive. On the ground lay a napkin, with some 
small silver coins tied up in one corner. These had 
been presented to the boy by the landlady of the 
hotel in Tularosa. 

Since then no trace has ever been found of Col. 
Fountain or his son. It still remains one of the 
mysteries of the White Sands. 

Later an ex-convict in Arizona told me that the 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 189 

boy was killed and tlirown into Lost River with his 
father's body. 

This Lost River would be an ideal place to hide 
a crime, as the current would take a dead body 
down stream, God knows where. This shallow 
stream flows from the A¥hite Sands in an easterly 
direction, towards the Guadalupe Mountains. It 
only shows in one place — a round hole in the 
earth, about twenty feet across it. I once laid flat 
on my stomach at the edge of this hole and dipped 
my had full of water from the stream, flowing 
gently a few feet below. 

The Mexicans in Tularosa cautioned Sam Cole- 
man and me not to drink this water, as it was 
poison. Still we took a chance, without any bad 
effects. 

It seems that the horse tracks of the murdering 
gang led up to a certain cattle ranch. Pat Garrett 
and his deputy, John P. Meadows, traced them 
there. Later sheriff Garrett and his deputies had 
a pitched battle at this ranch house. In the fight 
one of Garrett's deputies was shot and killed. 

John P. Meadows escapecl this battle by being- 
shot and wounded the day before, when he arrest- 
ed a Mexican horse thief. 

The owner of this cattle ranch and his chums 
were finally tried for the murder of A. J. Foun- 
tain and his son, but there being no proof that 
they were dead, the jury had to bring in a verdict 
of not guilty. This wound up the affair. 



190 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

When the Pat Cohgliii case came up for trial 
that "Foxy" gentleman plead guilty to butchering 
stolen cattle, after being warned by me not to. The 
Judge fined him $250, along with the costs of the 
Court. Thus did he dodge the penitentiary gates. 
Now Mr. Poe brought a $10,000 damage suit 
against him. I have never learned how that dam- 
age case terminated. 

Now I was free to ride back to the LX ranch in 
the Panhandle of Texas, a distance of about 800 
miles. 

In bidding Mr. and Mrs. George Nesbeth good- 
by they told me that they were afraid to travel 
over the White Sands road, for fear that Pat 
Cohglin would have them waylaid and murdered, 
for appearing against him as witnesses. Hence 
they intended to lay over in Las Cruces a month 
or tw^o, and slip away when Cohglin got over his 
angry spell. 

Thej^ had taken up a homestead above Tularosa, 
near Blazier's saw mill, on Tularosa River, and 
intended to make their home there the rest of their 
lives. 

At the point of the White Sands the whole 
crowd of four were murdered. In a later chapter 
I will give the facts of this murder, and the trial 
of the two Mexicans, who confessed to commit- 
ting the crime for $100 of Pat Cohglin 's money. 

While laying in Las Cruces I contracted a se- 
vere case of heart trouble over a pretty little, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 191 

wealthy, Mexican girl, by the name of Magdalena 
Ochoa. Therefore I concluded to start a small cat- 
tle ranch in this. Dona Ana County, so as to be 
near the little Miss. 

Cowboy Charlie AVall told me of a place that 
would suit me for a ranch. This being Dog Can- 
yon, the rendezvous of that murdering old rene- 
gade Indian Chief, Victoria. 

As Charlie Wall had to return to Ft. Stanton 
he agreed to go with me to Dog Canyon, to ex- 
amine the water supply. 

We started early one morning from the Monte- 
zuma Hotel. I threw a farewell kiss at Miss Mag- 
dalena, who sat in a window full of pretty flowers 
and roses, opposite the hotel. As I rode away, 
mounted on ''Croppy," she threw a kiss back at 
me which reduced the temperature of my heart. 

A telegram had been received in Las Cruces 
that morning, stating that old Victoria and his 
band of warriors had crossed the Rio Grande 
river at Colorow — above Las Cruces — during the 
night, and killed three white men. That they 
were headed toward Dog Canyon, but this news 
didn't prevent Wall and me from making the 
trip. We decided, though, not to camp over night 
at Dog Canyon. 

After passing through San Augustine Pass, 
twenty-five miles out of Las Cruces, we left the 
wagon road and turned to the right, cutting 



192 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

across the desert for Dog Canyon, at the foot of 
the Guadalupe Mountains. 

On the second day out of Las Cruces we ate din- 
ner in Dog Canyon. It was a lovely spot, though 
the stream of sparkling water flowing out of the 
mountains through the canyon, was small. 

I couldn't fully make up my mind to enter a 
government homestead at this rendezvous of old 
Victoria. 

After making a hurried examination of the 
land, and Avater up next to the steep mountains, 
Ave rode north to La Luz, a Mexican village, where 
we put up for the night. 

Later a Frenchman took up Dog Canyon as a 
homestead. He ^vas finally assassinated by un- 
known parties in the log cabin which he had built. 

From La Luz Charlie Wall and I rode north to 
Tularosa, then turned east, up Tularosa creek 

After crossing over the line of Dona Ana 
County, into Lincoln County, we came to an fi]- 
falfa field to our left, Avhere Charlie Wall had the 
year previous fought a battle with a crowd of Tul- 
arosa Mexicans, who objected to him using water 
to irrigate this alfalfa field. 

When the smoke of battle cleared away four 
Mexicans lay dead upon the ground, and young 
Wall had two bullet holes in his bod}'. 

Wall had four men helping him irrigate, but 
they took only a small part in the battle. 

To prevent being mobbed, by the angry Tula- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 193 

rosa Mexicans Wall and Ms companions made a 
run for Lincoln, to surrender to sheriff Pat Gar- 
rett. 

The sheriff allowed them to wear their pistols 
and to sleep in the jail. 

After continuing our journey ap the river 
j^oung Wall, who was a modest, truthful fellow, 
gave me the full account of ''Billy the Kid's" 
escape, the year before. 

Charlie Wall, not being seriously wounded, did 
his loafing in the upstairs room of the Lincoln 
Court-house, where "Billy the Kid" was being 
guarded. 

In La Mesilla the ' ' Kid ' ' had been convicted for 
the murder of Sheriff Brady, and Judge Bristol 
had sentenced him to be hanged in Lincoln, on 
May 13th, 1881. 

On the morning of April 28th, 'vhile young 
Wall was present in the room, Pat Garrett, who 
was preparing to leave for White Oaks to have a 
scaffold made, remarked to the "Kid's" two 
guards: "AVatch him carefully, boys, for he has 
only a few days to live, and might make a break. ' ' 

Then Bob Olinger, who had fought against 
"Billy the Kid" in the Lincoln County War, 
stepped to a closet, against the wall and got his 
double-barrel shot-gun. 

Looking over towards the "Kid," sitting on a 
stool, shackled and handcuffed, Ollinger said: 
"There are eighteen buckshot in each barrel and 



194 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

I reckon the man who gets them will feel it. You 
needn't worry, Pat, we will catch him like a 
goat. ' ' 

With one of his good-natured smiles the "Kid" 
remarked. "You might be the one to get them 
yourself. ' ' 

Now OUinger put the gun back in the closet and 
locked the door, putting the key in his pocket. 

About five o'clock that evening Bob Ollinger 
took Charlie Wall and the other fonr armed pris- 
oners across the wide street to the hotel for sup- 
per, leaving J. W. Bell alone to guard the "Kid." 

While eating supper Wall says they heard a 
shot fired in the court house. They all ran out on 
the sidewalk. Ollinger ran towards the courthouse. 
In the middle of the street he met the frightened 
Mexican jailor, who said: "Bell has killed the 
Kid." 

Now (Jllinger quit running and Avalked to the 
court-house. He had to go around to a side stairs, 
as there was no up-stairs entrance from the front. 

When passing underneath an upstairs window, 
which was open, the "Kid" called out: "Hello 
Bob!" Ollinger looked up and saw the "Kid", 
and the shotgun pointed towards him. Then he 
said, loud enough to be heard by Wall and the 
other prisoners across the street. "Yes. he has 
killed me, too ! ' ' 

These words were hardly out of the guard's 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 195 

month when a charge of buck-shot went through 
liis heart. 

A moment later "Billy the Kid" hobbled out 
on the small front porch. Around his waist were 
two belts of cartridges and two pistols. In his 
hands were the shot gun and a AVinchester rifle. 
These he had secured by kicking open the door to 
the gun-closet. Now the "Kid" took aim with the 
shot-gun at the dead body of Ollinger and fired, 
with the remark: "Take that, you s^ — of a b — , 
you will never follow me with that gun again." 
Now he broke the gun in two and threw the pieces 
at the corpse. 

By this time the sidewalk on the opposite side 
of the street w^as lined with people who had run 
out of their houses, on hearing the shots. 

Here "Billy the Kid" called to a Mexican, 
whom he knew, telling him to throw up a file. This 
was done, and the shackle chain was filed apart 
in the center, leaving a shackle and piece of chain 
on each leg. 

Now the "kid" told the Mexican to put a sad- 
dle and bridle on the deputy County Clerk's black 
pony — ^whicli had formerly been owned by the 
' ' Kid ' ' — and bring him out on the street. 

This order was carried out. 

The "Kid" now, after dancing a jig on the 
front porch, went to the side stairs, thence to the 
street, where the Mexican was holding the black 
pony. 



196 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

In trying to mount the pony, the ''Kid" being- 
encumbered \rith the heavy load of guns and am- 
munition, he got loose and ran back to the stable 
in the courthouse yard. 

While waiting for the Mexican to bring the 
pony back the ' ' Kid ' ' stood in the street holding 
the rifle ready for action. He would have been an 
easy target, had it not been that most of the men 
watching him were sjanpathizers. Wall says he 
could have killed him, but he wanted to see him 
escape. 

When the pony was brought back, the "Kid" 
gave the Mexican his rifle to hold, while he 
mounted. 

Now "Billy the Kid" galloped west, waving his 
hat and shouting: "Three cheers for Billv the 
Kid." 

When the excitement was over Charlie Wall 
says he helped the crowd care for the bodies of 
the two guards. Bell was found at the foot of the 
stairs with a bullet in his dead body. 

The "Kid" told the Mexican friend, who 
brought him the file and the pony, the secret of 
liis escape. He said Bell was sitting in a chair read- 
ing. Then he slipt his left hand out of the hand- 
cuffs and made a spring for the guard, striking 
liim on the head with the iron cuff. Instead of Bell 
pulling his pistol, which was buckled around his 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 197 

waist, lie threw both hands up to protect his head 
from another blow. 

Now the ''Kid" grabbed the pistol from the 
hols.ter. Then Bell ran towards the liead of the 
stairs, and as he went to go down, the "Kid" 
fired. The body went tumbling down the stairs, 
falling onto the Mexican Jailor^ who was sitting 
at the foot of the stairs. This stampeded the 
jailor, who ran out on the street where he met 
Ollinger, telling him that Bell had killed the 
''Kid." 

I am not sure that this Mexican was the jailor. 
He may have been only an assistant. 

After his escape "Billy the Kid" told his 
friends that he had starved himself, so that the 
hand-cuff could be slipped over his left hand. The 
guards supposed he had lost his appetite over the 
worry of his approaching doom. He said while in 
bed he used to slip the hand-cuff off to make sure 
it could be done easily. 

In killing Bob Ollinger the "Kid" only gave 
him a dose of his own kind of medicine. While the 
Lincoln County war was raging an acquaintance, 
who was in sympathy with "Billy the Kid's" 
crowd, stepped up to shake hands with Ollinger, 
who grabbed the extended right hand with his left. 
Then with his right hand drew his pistol and shot 
the fellow to death, he being unable to pull his 
pistol, as Ollinger was a powerful man, weighing 
about two hundred pounds. 



198 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

On arriving in Ft. Stanton Charlio Wall and ] 
separated. 1 continued on to Lincoln, where I laid 
over a few days. Pat Garrett and Mr. Poe had al- 
ready arrived in Lincoln from Las Crnces. . 

The next day after my arrival the sheriff held 
an auction to sell ''Billy the Kid's" saddle and 
pistol. 

The deputy county clerk and I were the only 
bidders for the Colts 41 caliber, double-action pis- 
tol, which the "Kid" held in his liand at the time 
of his death. 

My last bid was $13, what I thought it was ac- 
tually worth. The deputy clerk bid $13.50 and got 
it. I heard that he afterwards sold it for $250 on 
the strength of it's past history. 

While laying over in Lincoln I learned the true 
account of ' ' Billy the Kid 's ' ' death from the three 
men who had a hand in the affair. These men be- 
ing Pat Garrett, John W. Poe and -'Kip" Mc- 
Kinnie. 

Many stories have been circulated about the 
under-handed manner in which Garrett murdered 
the "Kid." Therefore I will here give the true 
account of it. 

About July 1st, 1881 Pat Garrett received a 
letter from a Mr. Brazil stating that the "Kid" 
had been seen lately around Ft. Sumner. 

The sheriff answered the letter telling Mr. 
Brazil to meet him at the mouth of the Tavban 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



199 



Arroyo, on the Pecos river, after diirk on July 
-13tli. 

Now Garrett took his two deputies, John Poe 




PAT GARRETT 



200 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

and "Kip" McKinnie, and started 1 orse-back, for 
the meeting place. 

These three officers watched and wa'ted during 
the whole night of July 13th, but Mr. Brazil failed 
to show up. 

On the morning of the 14th they rode up the 
Pecos river. When opposite Ft. Sumner the sher- 
iff sent Mr. Poe into that abandoned fort, where 
lived many Mexican families, to see if anything 
could be learned about the "Kid" having been 
there. 

Then Garrett and McKinnie rode six miles up 
the river to Sunny-side, to keep in hiding until the 
arrival of Mr. Poe. 

About night John Poe reached Sunny-side and 
reported to Garrett that he couldn't find out a 
thing of importance about the "Kid." Then the 
sheriff said they would ride into Ft. Sumner, 
after dark, and see Pete Maxwell, a wealthy sheep 
man, and the son of the famous Land Grant Max- 
well. The "Kid" was in love with Pete Maxwell's 
sister, hence Garrett thinking that Pete might 
have seen him hanging around their home. 

It was dark when the three officers started on 
their six mile journey. 

Arriving in Ft. Sumner their horses were tied 
in an old orchard. Then they walked into Pete 
Maxwell's large, grassy yard. The residence was 
a long adobe building fronting south, with a cov- 
ered porch the full length of the adobe house. Gar- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 201 

rett knew the room in which Pete generally slept. 
The door of this room was open. The sheriff told 
his two depnties to lie down on the grass, while he 
went in to talk with Pete. 

Now the sheriff lay over on Mr. IMaxwell's bed 
and began qnestioning him abont the ' ' Kid. ' ' No 
one ontside of Mr. Garrett was to know what Pete 
told him. 

In the rear of the Maxwell dwelling lived an old 
Mexican servant, who was a warm friend to the 
'MC:id." 

Previous to the arrival of the sheriff and his 
deputies, "Billy the Kid" had entered this old 
servant's adobe cabin. The old man had gone to 
bed. 

''Billy the Kid" lit the lamp; then pulled off 
his boots and coat and began reading the news- 
papers, which had been brought there for his 
special benefit. 

After glancing over the papers the "Kid" told 
the old man to get up and cook him some supper, 
as he was very hungry, having just walked in 
from the sheep camp. 

The old servant told him that he didn't have 
any meat in the house. Then the ' ' Kid ' ' replied : 
"I'll go and see Pete and get some." Now he pick- 
ed up a butcher knife from the table and started, 
bare-footed and bareheaded. 

In walking along the porch of Pete's room. 



202 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

"Kip" McKiiinie saw liiiii coming, but supposed 
lie was one of the servants. 

When nearly opposite Pete's room "Kip" rais- 
ed up and his spur rattled, which attracted the 
"Kid's" attention. Pulling his pistol he asked in 
Spanish: "Quien es? Quien es?" (Who's there, 
who's there?) 

Not getting an answer he backed into Pete's 
room and asked: "Pete, who's out there?" 

Maxwell didn't reply. Now the "Kid" saw 
strange movements in the bed and asked: "Who 
in the h — 1 is in here?" 

With the pistol raised in his right hand, and 
the butcher knife in his left, he began fighting 
across the room. Pete wliisper'^d in the sheriff's 
ear. "Tliats him Pat" 

By this time the "Kid" had backed to the dim 
moonlight coming through the south window, 
which slione directly on him, making him a easy 
target for the sheriff. Bang! went Garrett's Colts 
pistol, and down went a once mother's darling, 
shot through the heart. 

After the first shot, the sheriff cocked the pis- 
tol and it went off accidentally, putting a hole in 
tlie ceiling. 

The next day Billy Bonney, alias "Billy the 
Kid", was buried by the side of his chum, Tom 
(). Phalliard, in the old military cemetery. 

A few months later Pat Garrett had the l)odv 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 203 

dug up to see if the "Kid's" trigger finger had 
been cut off, but it had not. 

A man in the East was showing the front fin- 
ger of a man, preserved in alcohol. He claimed it 
was ''Billy the Kid's trigger finger. The news- 
papers had sensational accounts of it. 

Years later when the United States Govern- 
ment employed Will Griffin to remove all dead 
bodies of soldiers in the Ft. Sumner grave yard, 
to the National Cemetery in Santa Fe, the graves 
of "Billy the Kid" and Tom O'Phalliard were the 
only ones left. 

Mr. Griffin, who is still a resident of Santa Fe, 
says at the time he moved the soldiers bodies 
there was a board slab marking the "Kid's" 
grave. Now that old cemetery is an alfalfa field, 
and those two outlaw graves may have become 
obliterated. 

Before leaving Lincoln, I bade Pat Garrett and 
John K, Poe goodbye, and never met them again 
for many years. 

Soon after my departure Mr. Poe was elected 
sheriff of Lincoln County. He afterwards settled 
in the Pecos Valley, and at this time is a wealthy 
banker and land owner in the beautiful little citv 
of Eoswell, N. M. 

On my way home I stopped a few days to visit 
friends in White Oaks. 

I finally arrived at the LX ranch in the Texas 
Panhandle, after an absence of eight months, and 
after having ridden horse-back about 3000 miles. 




BILLY THE KID 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 205 

CHAPTER IX 

I BECOME MERCHANT IN CALDWELL, 

KANSAS. HISTORY OF THE OPENING 

OF OKLAHOMA TO SETTLEMENT. 

Shortly after my return from New Mexico, Mr. 
Hollicot put me in charge of eight hundred fat 
steers to be driven slowly to Caldwell, Kansas, on 
the southern boundary of that state. 

My outfit consisted of a cook, to drive the mess- 
wagon, and five riders, with six horses for each 
cowboy. 

The fourth day of July we were on the north 
Staked Plains, and laid over to celebrate the glo- 
rious Fourth by resting. 

During the forenoon I killed my last buffalo. A 
small herd passed our camp and I roped a fat 
heifer calf, with the intention of taking it to Cald- 
well with us, but Lon Chambers and some ot the 
boys begged that she he butchered for supper. 
Their wish was complied with, and we enjoyed 
buffalo calf-meat for several days. 

The next morning while hunting lost horses I 
rode by a bleached buffalo carcas. On one horn 
had been cut. Through curiosity I dismounted to 
make an examination. Imagine my surprise on 
finding my own initials, C. A. S., and the year 
1877 cut into the horn. 

Now the killing of this buffalo biill came back 



206 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

to my memory, I had forgotten all about the af- 
fair. 

In the early winter of 1877 I was caught on 
these plains in a severe blizzard and snow storm. 
Seeing a lone buffalo bull ahead of me, I made a 
dash for him, planting a bullet under his hump 
before he had time to escape. 

My pony being hungry and tired, I pulled the 
bridle off to let him graze, tying the end of the 
rope to the bull's hind leg. 

Now to shield myself from the cold north wind 
I lay down on the south side of the dead animal, 
with my head near his horns^. 

While waiting for the pony to fill up, I cut my 
initials and the year on one horn. 

In order to get these horns to camp I had to 
drag the head at the end of a rope, as they couldn't 
be separated from the skull. 

Now after the passing of thirty-six years this 
pair of buffalo horns are hanging on the wall of 
my bed-room to remind me of the days when mil- 
lions of buffalo roamed over the Staked Plains. 

The bleached carcasses of these wooly beasts 
became a God-send to the wise "hoe men" who la- 
ter settled on these plains. Buffalo bones almost 
became legal-tender, after railroads, were built. A 
wagon load of bones would purchase a good sup- 
ply of food and clothing. 

These new settlers who got the first grab at the 
pile of bones on the head of Tule Canyon, where 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 207 

General McKinzie, in 1874, killed the thousands of 
Comanche ponies, had a snap. 

The chances are some human bones were gath- 
ered along with the buffalo carcasses, and traded 
for sugar to make taffy for the little hoe people. 

I once found a pile of human bones on the north 
Staked Plains. They were in a round pile, and 
bleached white. Many buffalo carcases being near 
by. 

Whoever piled up these bones into a round 
mound must have known the gentleman who once 
carried them around with him. On top of the pile 
was the bleached shoulder blade of a buffalo, on 
which was carved: 

"Here lies the bones of poor Kid Cones, 

Whose greatest sin was the love of gin." 

We arrived in Caldwell, the ''Queen City of 
the border," about the first of September. 

The first man met whom I knew, in this town of 
over a thousand people, was Henry Brown of 
''Billy the Kid's" gang, wearing a gold star, as 
City Marshal. He begged me not to give him 
away, as he had reformed and intended to lead an 
upright life. 

I foolishly promised to keep the secret to my- 
self. Later he shot and killed an Indian chief, 
' ' Spotted Horse, ' ' and a cowboy named Boyce, in 
a cold-blooded manner. It seems he had murder 
in his heart. 

About two vears later while still holding the 



208 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



position of City Marshal, lie and his deputy, Ben 
Wheeler, and two cowboy friends, rode into Medi- 
cine Lodge in broad daylight, without masks, and 
held up the only bank in the town, killing the 
president, Wiley Payne, and his cashier, George 
Jeppert. 

In making their get-away, in a rainstorm, head- 
ed for the Indian Territory, with a mob of enrag- 
ed citizens on their trail, they butted up against 
a new barbed wire fence and couldn 't get through 
it. Now they turned west along the fence and came 
to a deep canj^on which couldn't be crossed. 

Finding themselves hemmed in, with the armed 





BARNEY O'CONNOR 



TOM DORAN 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 209 

mob near by, they dismounted and ran down into 
the canyon afoot, concealing themselves under an 
overhanging shelf of rock. 

The creek kept on rising, inch by inch, finally 
driving them out of their hiding place, to the open. 
Many guns from above were leveled at them, and 
up went their hands. 

The leaders of the pursuing party were both 
cowboy friends of mine, Barney O'Connor and 
Tom Doran. Mr. 'Connor is now a wealthy cat- 
tle man of Garden City, Kansas, and Thomas 
Doran, with the help of his good-looking, ener- 
getic, and jovial wife, is, at this writing, running 
the Montezuma Hotel in Santa Fe, and the Hotel 
Doran in the city of Albuquerque, New Mexico. 

The four prisoners were taken to Medicine 
Lodge and their pictures taken, then put into the 
jail. 

After dark a mob was formed and a rush made 
for the jail. When the door was opened Henry 
Brown and Ben Wheeler made a break for liberty. 
Henry Brown received a charge of buckshot, and 
fell over dead. Ben Wheeler's shirt was set on 
fire by a shot fired at close range. The blaze from 
his burning shirt as he ran in the dark made him 
an easy target for the swift runners behind him. 
A bullet finally broke his leg. 

Now he was carried back and compelled to 
watch the mob hang his two cowboy companions, 
then he, too, was strung up on the tree. 



210 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



Barney O'Connor fell lieir to tLe fine gold 
mounted Winchester rifle, which the citizens of 
Caldwell had presented to Henry Brown — their 
model law-officer. 



^ -5 •',-*; 






^^^^B^^m 


7 " *^i 



HENRY BROWN 



BEN WHEELER 



Soon after arriving in Caldwell our herd of 
steers were turned loose on the new steer ranch on 
Turkey Creek, in the Indian Territory, which the 
LX company had lately established. 

Now with my outfit I attended the cattle round- 
ups in the western part of the Indian Territory, 
gathering lost LX steers. 

It was the last part of November when our 
work was finished. Then we returned to Caldwell, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 211 

where Mr. David T. Beals was awaiting my re- 
turn. He had purchased a farm on the Indian 
Territory line, two miles southeast of Caldwell, 
on which to winter the LX cow-ponies. 

I was given charge of this farm, and the more 
than one hundred head of cow-ponies. 

Now I bought some town lots and contracted 
the building of a new frame residence. Then I 
boarded a train for southern Texas to get Mother. 

I went by way of St. Louis to visit my sister 
Mrs. George W. Wines, and her family. While in 
that city I dropped into the Planter's Hotel to 
note the changes since I was bell-boy in that swell 
hostelry. 

The red-headed bell-boy, Jimmy Byron, with 
whom I had the fight, which caused me to throw 
up the job as "bell-hop", was now owner of the 
news-stand. We buried the hatchet of past hatred 
and shook hands. 

The former steward was now tbf proprietor, 
and "Old Mike" was still the watchman. The 
chief clerk, Cunningham, who had slapped me for 
fighting while on duty, was still holding down his 
job, but I didn't shake hands with him. 

My rail-road journey was continued to the city 
of Galveston, in order to visit my TTncle, Nick 
White, and his family. Then a Morgan steam-ship 
was boarded for what was left of Indianola, since 
the great storm of 1875 had washed it away. 

My boyhood plav^nates, Johnny and Jimmie 



212 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

Williams, were in Indianola with their sail-boat, 
and they took me to Matagorda. 

In Matagorda I laid over a few days visiting 
my hundreds of friends. Then Jim Keller loaned 
me a horse and saddle and I rode to Mother on 
Cashes Creek. 

Now I hired Fred Cornelius to take Mother and 
me over to the Sunset rail-road, fifty miles north. 

Mother and I arrived in Caldwell, Kansas, a 
few days before Christmas. Furniture was bought 
and a "Home, sweet home" established in laj 
new house. 

Now I took charge of the horse ranch, south- 
east of town, and put in a pleasant winter. 

About the first of March I received a letter 
from Mr. Beals, in Boston, Mass., ordering me to 
take my crew of cowboys and cow-ponies back to 
the LX ranch in the Texas Panhandle. 

That night after receiving the orders, I at- 
tended church with Miss May Be&l -. a niece o'f 
David T. Beals. AVhen church was over she intro- 
duced me to her pretty little fifteen year old, 
black-eyed chum, Mamie Lloyd. 

Now I was a sure enough locoed (crazy) cowboy 
— up to my ears in love. 

Six days later, in the Phillips Hotel, in Welling- 
ton,' the county-seat of Sumner County, Kansas, I 
was married to Mamie Lloyd — the only daughter 
of H. Clay Lloyd, of Shelbysville, Illinois. In nail- 
ing this pretty little miss to the matrimonial cross 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



213 



I "shore" won a prize. But the poor girl only liv- 
ed six years after our marriage, dying in my 




MAMY AND VIOLA 



arms in Denver, Colorado. She left a five year 
old daughter, Viola, to nearly cry her eyes out 
over the loss of a fond mother. Now this once baby 
girl, Viola, lives in San Diego, California, and has 
an only daughter, twelve years of age, of her own, 
her name being Margaret Keid. 

Three days after marrying I started for the 
Panhandle of Texas in charge of twenty-five cow- 



214 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

boys, one hundred cow-ponies and six mess wag- 
ons. 

A journey of eighteen daj^s brought us to the 
LX ranch. 

After a few days rest Mr. Hollicot sent me in 
charge of a crew to attend round-ujDs on Red 
Eiver, and Peas River, in the south-eastern part 
of the Panhandle. 

We arrived at the LX ranch on July 1st with 
about 3000 head of cattle, which had strayed 
off during the winter. 

Now I started back to Caldwell with 800 fat 
steers, arriving there about September the first. 

Mr. Beals ordered me to take ipay outfit back to 
the Panhandle at once and get another herd of 
fat steers. This I started to do, but after Mr. 
Beals had taken the train for the east, I suddenly 
changed my mind, I then turned the outfit over to 
one of my cowboys, Charlie Sprague, who started 
for the Panhandle after the other herd. 

Then I swore off being a wild an . woolly cow- 
boy. 

I hated to quit the LX outfit, as Mr. David T. 
Beals was the best man I had ever v-orked for. He 
was an honest, broad-gauge cattle-man. 

Many years afterwards I visited him in Kansas 
City, not knowing that he was almost at the point 
of death. 

On arrival in Kansas City, I dropped into the 
Union National Bank, of which Mr. Beals was 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 215 

president. The cashier, Mr. Neal, informed me 
that Mr. Beals was very sick, but would, no doubt, 
like to see me. 

Arriving at the swell residence, 25 Indepen- 
dence Avenue, which, along with the grounds, 
covered a half city block, I rang the door bell. The 
young lady servant informed me that the doctor 
had given orders that no one be allowed to see Mr. 
Beals. 

Writing a note to the sick man on a card, I de- 
parted. Before reaching the street Mrs. Beals call- 
ed me back. She said Mr. Beals would never for- 
give me if I left without seeing him. 

When I reached the sick chamber Mr. Beals sat 
up, propped against pillows, and gave me a hearty 
welcome. He said my presence made him feel bet- 
ter. 

We "harked back" to the good old cattle days 
until the five o'clock dinner was ready, then, 
strange to relate, the old gentleman accompanied 
me down to the dining room, and ate a hearty 
meal — the first for a long time. 

After Mr. Beals had gone back to bed, his wife 
showed me through the two rooms full of the most 
costly wedding presents a cowboy ever laid eyes 
on. Many of them came from London and Paris. 

A few days previous their only daughter. Miss 
Dora, had married a young Kansas City business 
man, and they had gone away on their wedding 
tour. 



216 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The only child left was David T. Beals, Jr. — 
almost grown to manhood. As a baby he had cost 
his father $5000 in hard cash. 

When about six weeks old he was kidnapped. 
Mr. Beals put advertisements in the city papers 
offering a reward of $5,000 for the return of the 
baby, and no questions would be asked. That the 
money would be in the house ready to be handed 
over when the baby was returned. 

Two days later, after dark, a rap brought the 
cook to the kitchen door. There stood a man and 
woman, who told the cook to tell Mr. Beals to 
come and get this baby boy. 

Putting the infant in it's mother's arms Mr. 
Beals got the bag of money and gave it to the 
kidnappers, who departed. 

After the death of Mr. Beals, young David T. 
Beals stepped into his father's shoes, and is now 
a successful banker, with a happy family of his 
own. 

Now I rented a store room on Main Street and 
opened a tobacco and cigar store, with confection- 
aries as a side issue. I scraped together a few hun- 
dred dollars, in order to get started. After that 
the sailing was easy, as my credit was unlimited. 

Finally I rented an adjoining store room, and 
cut an arch-way between the two. In this I opened 
up an ice-cream and oyster parlor. 

Soon I had five clerks and attendants in my 
employ. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 217 

About this time there was great excitement over 
the opening of Oklahoma to settlement. Soldiers 
were kept on the border of the Indian Territory 
to keep the "Oklahoma boomers" out of the 
"promised land." 

Still the "boomers" would slip by the soldiers 
in the night. Many were arrested and jailed in 
Wichita. 

Capt. D. L. Payne was at the head of the move- 
ment, and Capt. Couch was second in command. 

While the soldiers were napping several hun- 
dred ' ' Oklahoma boomers ' ' stole a march on them 
in the night. The next day the "Oklahoma War 
Chief," with Samuel Croker as editor in Chief, 
was issued in it's new home, a frame shack hauled 
over the line from Kansas. 

This, the first newspaper ever published in Ok- 
lahoma, was issued several miles south of the line, 
on Chikaskia Creek, south-east of Hunnewell, 
Kansas. 

With the large crowd gathered together, at the 
"Oklahoma War Chief's" new home, a photo- 
graph was taken. 

Of course the United States Soldiers, stationed 
at Caldwell, finally woke up and captured the 
"Oklahoma War Chief" and it's editor, burning 
the shack, and marching the big and little "boom- 
ers" back over the line into Kansas. 

On one of these raids into Oklahoma, Capt. D. 
L. Payne built a log house, on the Canadian River, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 219 

and established a home. But his "home, sweet 
home" only lasted until the soldiers could reach 
him. His photograph and the log house was tak- 
en before his arrest. 

Big-hearted Capt. D. L. Payne, the hero of all 
"boomers," died before Oklahoma was opened to 
settlement. He dropped dead while eating a meal 
at a hotel in Wellington, Kansas. 

Now Capt. Bill Couch stepped into Capt. Paynes 
shoes, and became the "big chief" of the "Okla- 
homa boomers." 

Owing to the fact that their bitter enemies, the 
U. S. Soldiers and the Indian Territory cattle- 
men, made Caldwell their headquarters, the 
"boomers" left, and established headquarters in 
Arkansas City, Kansas, thirty-five miles east. 

This didn't suit the citizens and business men 
of Caldwell, so one night we held a mass-meeting 
to remedy the matter. 

It was Saturday night. A collection of $600 in 
cash was taken up, and a Mr. Miller and I were 
appointed a committee to visit Arkansas City, on 
the quiet, and induce the "boomers" to re-estab- 
lish headquarters in Caldwell. 

Bright and early Sunday morning Mr. Miller 
and I started east in a buggy, drawn by a spirited 
pair of sorrels. 

We arrived in the ' ' boomer 's ' ' camp, in the out- 
skirts of Arkansas City, in time to eat dinner with 
Capt. Couch, his secretary, John A. Blackburn, 



220 A LONE STAR COWBOY 



CAPT. D. L. PAYNE 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 221 

and Samuel Crocker, who liad brought the ' ' Okla- 
homa War Chief" back to life. 

Mr. Miller and I explained our business, and 
showed the $600 collected the night before. And 
we promised that more money would be produced 
to feed the little hungry ''boomers" when needed. 

There were many poverty-stricken "boomers" 
with large families, who needed free grub and 
clothing. 

After dinner Capt. Couch called the people to- 
gether, and in a speech, told them of our mission. 

A vote was taken, and carried, to re-estabiisli 
headquarters in Caldwell. 

Now Mr. Miller and I paid over the $600, and 
returned home. 

Early the next morning the road along the 
Kansas border was lined with the 600 big and lit- 
tle "boomers," some afoot and others in vehicles. 

Arkansas City was angry when she awoke to 
the fact that Caldwell had stolen a march on her, 
while she slept. 

Soon after this I became the "Oklahoma bord- 
er" cigar King. A lot of 100,000 cigars were or- 
dered from an eastern factory, put up in my own 
special brand, called "The Oklahoma Boomer." 
They sold like hot cakes. 

In order to catch the cowboj^ trade, coming to 
town from the Indian Territory, I had a large 
oil-painting made, which was locked with iron 



222 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

chains to the overhead frame work of the iron 
bridge across Bluff Creek. 

The painting showed a mounted cowboy mth a 
long-horn steer at the end of his rope. Over this 
was my "Oklahoma Boomer" cigar advertise- 
ment. 

Cowboys leaving town drunk were in the habit 
of shooting this nice oil painting full of holes. 
The last time I saw it about twenty years later, it 
was riddled with bullet holes. 

On the first day of May, 1885, Caldwell put on 
her Sunday Clothes and held a grand cowboy tour- 
nament at the fair grounds. Cowboys and cattle- 
men from all over the Indian Territory were there 
to witness the sport. 

One of the games was catching small rings with 
a long pole, while the pony was running his best, 
the prize being a fine ladies gold ring. 

I had promised my sixteen year old wife that 
she would wear the ring, and the promise w^as ful- 
filled, as I won against the dozens of competitors. 

In the steer-roping match I won a fine silver 
cup, hog-tjdng the steer in forty-four seconds. Tlio 
first time I threw him he jumped to his feet, af- 
ter I had dismounted. Then springing back in the 
saddle, I had to throw him again. Even with all 
this lost time the silver cup was awarded to me, 
and it is kept as a relic of by-gone days. 

My mount was a "cracker-jack," black pony 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 223 

borrowed from Cattle King John Blair, now an 
automobile dealer of Wichita, Kansas. 

While running my store I wore high-heel cow- 
boy boots, and red silk sash around my waist. 

Finally my silk sash disappeared, and another 
couldn't be purchased in this northern country. 
There was nothing to do but wear suspenders to 
keep my pants up, and this almost broke my heart. 

Several months later "Shanghai" Pierce stop- 
ped off in Caldwell, and took dinner with us. 

While at the dinner table Mr. Pierce expressed 
surprise at me wearing suspenders, instead of a 
silk sash. Here Mamie, my girl wife, confessed 
that she had burnt my silk sash, so that I would 
have to wear suspenders. Of course I forgave her 
before she died. 

The "Oklahoma boomers" increased in num- 
bers, and kept the soldiers busy running them 
out of the milk and honey land. Finally Congress 
passed a bill opening Oklahoma to settlement. 

In the spring of 1899, when the grand rush v<as 
made for free homes in Oklahoma, by the thous- 
ands of "boomers," cattle men and cow-boys, it 
became the greatest human stampede ever pulled 
off. 

The rush was made from all sides, but the great- 
est crowd was on the Kansas border, where a large 
force of U. S. Soldiers held the crowds back un- 
til the word was given to "go." 

Now a new state was born, though she was kept 



224 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

in baby "Panties" for several years; then allow- 
ed to wear Statehood clothing, adding another 
star to our glorious American Flag. 

On the first anniversary of the opening of Ok- 
lahoma, in the spring of 1890, I helped celebrate 
the day in the swift little city of El Reno, built 
on the old Chisholm cattle trail, a few miles be- 
low Ft. Keno, on the North Canadian River. 

In the short period of one year many other em- 
bryo cities sprang up, on, or near the Chisholm 
trail, among them being Hennessey, Enid and 
Kingfisher. A year or two later, Ohickasha, now 
one of the leading cities of Oklahoma, sprang into 
existence on the AVashita River. 

The next day after the anniversary celebration, 
in El Reno, I visited Oklahoma City — now the 
capital, and largest city in the state. 

Here X found a city of tents and shacks scatter- 
ed all over creation. 

My friend, Samuel Crocker, editor of the "Ok- 
lahoma War Chief," was found living on his 
homestead at the edge of town. He had already 
sold 80 acres of his 160 acre tract, as city lots. 

Poor Capt. Couch, of the original "Oklahoma 
boomers," had secured a farm near Oklahoma 
City, but it cost him his life, as he was shot and 
killed in a dispute over the claim. 

I found my friend, John A. Blackburn, secre- 
tary of the original "boomers," had been elect- 
ed county clerk in Oklahoma City. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 225 

Many fortuens were made in Oklahoma City 
real estate, and in a few years costly business 
blocks were erected. The Colcord Building was 
the pride of the city in later years. It was built by 
Col. Colcord who, in the early cattle days, owned 
the stage line south of Caldwell. The opening of 
Oklahoma had made him wealthy, placing him on 
^'easy street," along with hundreds of other old- 
timers who had endured hardships along the Kan- 
sas and Indian Territory border. 

Two years and a half as a successful business 
man swelled my head, so. that I thought I was a 
antural born financier. Caldwell became too small 
for a man of my caliber. Therefore, the store and 
other interests were sold, and in the early spring 
of 1886, I moved to the city of Chicago, a place 
more fitting for the expansion of my financial 
abilities. 

A few 'months in that great city convinced me 
that the proper place for me to shine was in the 
saddle. I had butted into men with genius fii)pn- 
cial abilities, and in short order, they almost put 
me on the "Bum." 



226 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

CHAPTER X. 

A VISIT TO MY OLD STAMPING GROUND 
IN SOUTHERN TEXAS. 

THE TRUE HISTORY OF THE STARTING, 

AND NAMING OF THE OLD CHIS- 

HOLM CATTLE TRAIL 

During tlie spring of 1886, while I was living in 
the city of Chicago, the great Haymarket riot 
took place. A bomb thrown into a squad of police- 
men killed and wounded sixty officers 

The excitement over the matter made me think 
that I might be a natural born detective instead 
of a financier. Hence I applied for a position with 
Pinkerton's National Detective Agency, and was 
accepted. They had just established a branch ag- 
ency in Denver, Colorado, and needed a cowboy 
detective out there to work on the western cattle 
ranges, and among outlaws. 

The first work assigned to me in Chicago was 
on the haymarket Anarchist case. I continued on 
it until the leaders ; Ling, Parsons, Engel, Fisher, 
Schwab, Fielding and Neebe were convicted, four 
being hanged, and two sent to the penitentiary. 
Ling blew his head off with a bomb, in the jail, 
before the time for execution. 

During the fall I departed for Denver, Colo- 
rado, where, for twenty-two long years I made my 



A LONE STAR COWBOY " 227 

headquarters, and continued in the employ of the 
Pinkerton Agenc}^ 

Naturally these twenty-two years proved a 
great schooling for a once wild and woolly cow- 
boy. Many times my life was saved by a mere 
hairs-breadth, and I had the opportunity of see- 
ing parts of the United States, Old Mexico, Brit- 
ish Columbia and the coast country of Alaska. 

During eight months of this time I was in the 
saddle as a "cowboy-outlaw" in the mountains of 
Kentucky and Virginia. 

One of my operations in the saddle as a "cow 
boy outlaw," under assumed names, as a member 
of the "Wild Bunch" of "bad" men, lasted for 
four years, until one of the worst gangs of mur- 
derers, train and bank robbers, were broken up. 
This operation took me into all the western states 
and Old Mexico, also into Tennessee and Arkan- 
sas. 

My work through the Bad Lands of South Da- 
kota placed me among a new kind of fool hoe- 
men." The new settlers of Texas and Oklahoma 
had it easy, compared with these Bad Land set- 
tlers. 

Many times during the winter months I have 
put up for the night in one of the sod houses called 
"home sweet home" by these hardy "Hoe-men." 
when it was impossible to get near the stove, or 
fire-place, on account of the shivering children 
huddled around the fire to keep warm. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 229 

In many cases wood or coal liad to be hauled 
thirty to fifty miles, so you can imagine the neces- 
sity for small fires, even though the thermome- 
ter was hovering below the zero mark Also in 
some cases water had to be hauled long distances. 

Those same conditions existed in parts of 
North Dakota, Montana, Wyoming and Nebraska. 

By riglits Uncle Sam should have furnished 
free fuel and water to go with the free land given 
to these "fool-hoe-men" of the north. 

Nearly a year of my time was spent in the sad- 
dle in the Horse Heaven country of eastern Ore- 
gon, where I saw more fine range horses than I 
had ever seen before. It should have been named 
Cowboy Heaven, as good horses means Heaven to 
a cowboy. 

Here, even in mid-winter, these thousands of 
wild horses could fill up on green bunch grass by 
pawing the snow away. They were kept seal fat 
the year 'round. One man ip. Crook County, a Mr. 
Brown, had 5000 horses on his range and they 
were all well-bred stock. 

During the early '90s I concluded to take anoth- 
er matrimonial chance. This time is was a pretty 
blue-eyed girl, Miss Lillie Thomas, of Denver. We 
lived together long enough to have one son. Lee 
Roy, who at this writing, has discarded his sol- 
diers uniform, which he put on to help lick that 
Kaiser Wilhelm bunch. He is now back in a South- 



230 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ern California bank, holding down an official po- 
sition. 

Lillie and I agreed to disagree because she 
wanted to live in Los Angeles, California, while I 
insisted on making the Rocky Mountains my home. 

Although the matrimonial knot was severed, we 
still remain good friends, and correspond with 
each other. She often sends me nice fruits from 
her California orchard. 

In the fall of 1887, one year after landing in 
Denver, I took part in a roping and riding match 
which took place at the Riverside Park. It was the 
first cowboj" tournament ever pulled off in Den- 
ver, and the whole city turned out to see it. 

I had just returned from a cowboy operation in 
western Colorado, and had sold my saddle. Hence 
I had to hire an old Texas saddle for the tourna- 
ment. I also hired a small white cow-pony for the 
occasion. 

Here is what the two leading dally papers, tlie 
Republican, and the Rocky Mountain News said 
about me the next morning. I was under the as- 
sumed name of ''Dull Knife," as I didn't want 
the public to know who I was : 

"When Dull Knife rode in armed with pearl- 
handled pistol and knife, a gold embroidered 
Mexican sombrero on his head, and mounted on a 
quick-reined white pony, he was such a perfect 
and graceful type of a Texas cowboy that the 
audience gave one spontaneous Ah-h-a of admir- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 231 

ation. The little white pony was a daisy and ran 
up on Dull Knife's broncho easy. Dull Knife was 
the only man this day to rope and throw his bron- 
cho on horseback. But the rope had fouled in the 
broncho's mane, and it was choking to death, so 
Dull Knife cut the rope, mercifully freed the 
broncho and lost his time to ride. Dull Knife es- 
sayed roping and tying but luck was against him. 
The horn of his light Mexican saddle broke off 
close to the fork. Regaining his rope he tied it in 
the forks of his saddle, and tried it again, but his 
beautiful little cut horse was too light to hold the 
big hurley steer which dragged it all over the cor- 
ral, so Dull Knife, chafing with chagrin, had to 
give in to hard luck and call it a draw." 
The other daily paper gave this account : 

"None knew who the next man was who rode 
out on a white pony. They called him Dull Knife, 
and he was from Meeker. That was all the infor- 
mation obtainable. But Dull Knife was a daisy. 
With white sombrero, Mexican saddle, leather 
chaparejos, flaming red handkerchief, belt and 
pearl handled revolver and knife, he was all that 
the eastern imagination of the typical cowboy 
could picture. A bay was pointed out to him 
and away they flew. It didn't take that cunning 
bay broncho more than a minute to find out that 
he was wanted. With all the natural cussedness of 
his breed it didn 't take him more than a second to 
determine that he would fool somebody. Dashing 



232 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

here and there, with flashing eyes and streaming- 
mane and tail, the animal was a pretty picture. 
The white pony was too cunning for him though, 
and soon put his rider in a position where the 
rope could be thrown and the arched neck caught 
in the running loop. The captive was thrown, 
then Dull Knife made a skillful move. He cut the 
rope loose and held the struggling animal by the 
nose. But while he was subduing the horse, the 
man had gotten too far away from his saddle and 
couldn't get back to it. The judges at length called 
time and the pretty bay was free. 

"Dull Knife and E. A. Shaeffer next stretched 
a steer in quick time. ' ' 

The reason I lost my chance to ride this wild 
broncho was because, in running from my mount 
to the fallen broncho, the hackamore and leather 
blind fell to the ground, away from my reach, and 
according to the rules, no one was allowed to hand 
them to me. They had been tucked under my pistol 
belt. There I sat on the broncho's neck, holding 
him down by the nose, with the hackamore and 
blind almost within reach. There was nothing to 
do but free the animal. 

Had it not been for this mishap, I feel confident 
that I would have won the large prize. Still, the 
managers of the tournament presented me with a 
special prize of fifteen dollars, for ' ' skillful cow- 
boy work." 

In the early fall of 1907, after a twenty-two 




cd >. 




o 

> 

o 

^ 

o 
u 

_J 

u. 

J 
_1 

:^ 
<n 

oc 
o 
u. 

^ 
o 

UJ 

I 
o 



234 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

years eventful life as a cowboy detective, I resign- 
ed from Pinkerton's National Detective Agency, 
and moved onto my Sunny Slope ranch in the out- 
skirts of the capital city of Santa Fe, New Mexico. 
Many years before, I had selected Santa Fe as a 
home, owing to its fine summer climate, and the 
broad-gauge, brotherly spirit of its citizens. 

Even though I had two pet saddle horses to 
ride, I found this "simple life" not strenuous 
enough. Therefore I accepted a detective opera- 
tion at eight dollars a daj^ and all expenses, which 
came to me through the Wm. J. Burns Detective 
Agency of Chicago, as they had no suitable detec- 
tive for the work, which was to be done in the 
state of Nevada. 

I was absent on this operation, which proved a 
success to the clients, nearly a year, and made 
some easy money. 

In 1910 the Wm. J. Burns Detective Agency, of 
Chicago, employed me on another operation, in 
Arizona, to decide who had robbed a bank there. 
As I decided that "Kid Curry" was the robber, I 
will here give a sketch of his life, and the daring 
robbery in Arizona. 

Among the latter-day "bad" men, Harvey Lo- 
gan, alias "Kid Curry" had no equal as a dare 
devil. 

He was brought up in Dodson, Missouri, above 
Kansas City, and at an early age drifted to Texas 
and Colorado to become a cowbov. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 235 

In 1884 lie got into a ''jack-pot" in Pueblo, 
Colorado, and had to hit the high places to escape 
the officers of the law, several bullets striking the 
buggy in which he made his getaway. 

He finally landed in the Judith Basin, Montana, 
and with his brothers, Johnny and Loney, started 
in the cattle and horse business, with no capital 
but branding irons and lassos. 

A few years later, in a saloon fight, he killed old 
Pike Landusky, in the Little Rockies of northern 
Montana. 

Now he became an outlaw right. In Nebraska 
he held up a bank, and was shot through the wrist 
while making his get-away. This wound branded 
him for life. Had it not been for his wound, 
some of his friends might think that his body now 
lies in a train-robber's grave, on Grand River in 
Colorado. 

A train was held up, and one of the robbers 
killed; his body being identified by a man who 
was supposed to know, as that of "Kid Curry." 
Later the body was dug up to see if there was a 
wound in the wrist, but there was not. 

At the time of this train hold-up, the newspa- 
pers were full of the account of "Kid Curry's" 
connection with it, and of his death. Soon after, 
one of "Kid Curry's" chums, Jim Furgerson, 
who lived near the scene of the robbery, wrote 
me, under my assumed name of Harry Blevins to 
Silver City, New Mexico, telling of the robbery. 



236 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

and of how the officers thought the dead robber 
was "Kid Curry." The letter stated: ''The man 
who was killed, stopped with me up to the time the 
train was held up, and I know he was not "Kid 
Curry." 

This letter should be on file in AVm, J. Burns' 
Agency, in Los Angeles, California, as I sent it to 
the superintendent there, as proof that the man 
buried on Grand River was not "Kid Curry." 

Jim Furgerson, who wrote me this letter, was 
an ex-convict outlaw, and was in Nebraska when 
"Kid Curry" was shot in the wrist. 

He had no reason to write me a falsehood, as 
he supposed I was an outlaw. In about the year 
1910, the Gila Valley Bank, in Morencia, Arizona, 
was held up by a lone robber. 

Morencia is a mining camp of about 5,000 popu- 
lation. It is situated in a basin, with no way to get 
in or out on horseback, except down the canyon 
past the machine-shop, where 250 men were em- 
ployed. 

About 10 A. M. the lone robber tied his horse 
in front of the hotel and bank ; the bank being on 
the lower floor and the hotel upstairs. 

Carrying a double canvas bag in his hand, the 
robber entered the bank. He then deliberately 
pulled down the shade, or curtain, to tlie glass 
front door which he locked. Now he threw his 
Colt's pistol down on the cashier and bookkeeper. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 237 

the only occupants of the bank. Of course their 
hands went up in the air. 

On reaching the inside of the private enclosure, 
the handit asked the cashier to dump his loose 
change into the canvas bag. This netted only 
about $1,500. 

Now the cashier was led into the outer vault, 
the door of which was open. In one corner lay a 
pile of silver dollars, in sacks. The cashier swore 
by all that was holy, that he couldn't open the in- 
side vault, where the bulk of the money was kept, 
as no one but the manager of the company store 
knew the combination. Of course this was a false- 
hood but the bandit didn't know it. 

The holdup man then held open his double- 
geared sack and told the cashier to put in some 
of the silver, which he did, putting in nine hun- 
dred dollars in all. 

Now the robber called the bookkeeper and told 
him and the cashier to get into the vault, so he 
could lock them up. They both pleaded with him 
not to shut them in the steel vault, as they would 
smother before any one could find and release 
them. 

A tender spot was touched in the bandit's heart. 
He asked if they would keep still and not give the 
alarm until after he mounted his pony. They 
promised by the Virgin Mary and all the saints in 
Heaven. 

Now the robber shouldered his heavv sack and 



238 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

started for his mount, tied to the rack about one 
hundred yards distant. He had only got half way 
to the horse when the cashier and bookkeeper came 
out on the porch and cut down on him with a 
double-barrel shotgun and a pistol. The charge of 
shot hit the ground near his feet. He then coolly 
sat the sack down, and pulling his pistol, made 
the two bankers hide out. Bullets from his pistol 
hit the walls close to them. 

Now he shouldered the sack and got to his 
horse, when an insurance agent ran out on the 
porch and began shooting with a small twenty- 
two caliber pocket pistol. No attention was paid 
to this until after he had put the sack of mone\' 
over the saddle horn. Then he got his Winchester 
rifle from the saddle scabbard, and took one shot 
at the man with the toy pistol. The bullet from his 
high power rifle buried itself in a pillar of the 
porch, a few inches above the man's head. Of 
course the fellow made himself scarce after this 
shot. 

By this time the street in front of the company 
store was full of laborers, attracted by the shoot- 
ing; also the road in front of the machine-shop, 
over which the robber had to go, was full of men. 

Mounting his horse, and holding the rifle in his 
right hand, he went flying down the steep hill. On 
reaching the machine-shop, where the hundred or 
more men were lined along the road, he cliecked 
his mount up into a trot and turned the barrel of 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 239 

the rifle toward the crowd. This caused a scatter- 
ing; some crawling away on their hands and 
knees. 

The bandit laughed loud enough to be heard by 
some of these men, who told me about it a week 
or so later. 

Now the robber put spurs to his mount and 
turned to the west, over a side road. He could see 
the two deputy sheriffs — who had run into the 
store to get rifles — coming on his trail as fast as 
their horses could run. 

On reaching the top of a ridge the bandit quit 
the road and turned down a gulch. 

When the officers came in sight the robber was 
several hundred yards down the gulch. Soon he 
disappeared. He had jumped his mount over a 
precipice, twelve feet high, into a sandy arroyo. 

On reaching the place the officers could see the 
horse's tracks in the sand, going down the bed of 
the gulch. 

These officers were old time cowboys, but they 
didn't have the nerve to jump over the cliff — and 
I couldn't blame them after seeing the place, at 
which time the robber's horse tracks still showed 
in the sand. 

The distance of the first tracks from the cliff 
showed that the horse was running when he went 
over. 

There was nothing for the officers to do but to 
go down the ridge quite a distance, to the first 



240 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

place where they could enter the gulch. They 
found the robbers tracks and followed them 'till 
they were lost on a stony flat. They were then 
headed north-east toward Alma, New Mexico, the 
outlaws' paradise. 

When I arrived on the scene the two officers 
rode over the ground and showed me the robber's 
trail. 

I spent a week or two investigating this robbery 
and came to the conclusion that the hold-up man 
was "Kid Curry." Out in the hills I found some 
men who had seen him before the robbery — and 
their descriptions tallied with that of "Kid Cur- 
ry-" 

The day before the robbery two Mexicans, re- 
turning to their camp for dinner, saw this bandit 
asleep on his saddle, with his horse grazing at the 
end of a rope near by. They called to him, and he 
jumped up holding a Winchester rifle ready for 
action. They invited him to their camp for dinner 
He replied that he wasn't hungry. 

In my investigations I found out that just be- 
fore this robbery "Kid Curry's" old pal, Bob 
-r^McGinnis, who had been pardoned from the peni- 
tentiary, had sold his saloon in Alma and dropped 
out of sight. 

Another old pal, "Butch Cassaday," who had 
formerly run a saloon in Alma for four years, un- 
der the name of Jim Lowe, was seen with McGin- 
nis not long before the hold-up. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 241 

No doubt the bandit selected his route, knowing 
that very few law officers would risk their necks 
in following him over that cliff. 

"Kid Curry" knew every foot of this whole 
country, as he had been a cowboy along the line 
of New Mexico and Arizona, under the name of 
Tom Capehart. 

Several years previous, Capehart had shot and 
killed Geo. Scarborough, the man who did a noble 
deed when he killed John Sillman, the murderer 
of Wesley Harding in El Paso, Texas. 

The killing of Scarborough took place just be- 
fore the writer joined "Kid Curry's" wild bunch, 
who operated from the hole-in-the-wall, in Wyom- 
ing, and the Little Rockies in Montana, to Alma, 
New Mexico, and the northern border ot old 
Mexico. 

Walter Birchfield, a cattle man of Deming, New 
Mexico, was with Scarborough when he was killed. 
The boys used to tell in my presence of how Birch- 
fields life was spared, as they liked him on ac- 
count of his many acts of kindness toward Cape- 
hart, when he was a cowboy near Deming. 

Only his warmest friends know what became of 
"Kid Curry" after he escaped from the sheriff 
at Knoxville, Tennessee. 

This sheriff was paid $8000 to let "Kid Curry" 
escape, after his conviction for life, and the chan- 
ces are that Jim T , who owned a horse ranch 

in partsership with ' ' Kid Curry, ' ' near Landusk\% 



242 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



Montana, furnished this money, as he was in 
Knoxville at the time. 

The Knoxville sheriff was arrested and thrown 
in jail for accepting this bribe. 




•KID CURRY' 



The crime for which ''Kid Curry" was con- 
victed was passing unsigned United States cur- 
rency, secured in a Great Northern train hold-up. 
But the cause of his arrest was the shooting of 
two police-officers, in Knoxville. 

He was playing pool with a stranger when an 
argument arose over the game. "Kid Curry" 
knocked the stranger down with his cue. Thi:: 
caused the proprietor of the hall to whistle for 
the police. ''Kid Curry" then ran out of the door, 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 243 

just as two officers were entering. They demand- 
ed his arrest. He drew his pistol and shot botis 
dow^n — though both finally recovered from the 
wonnds. One of these officers nsed his club on 
"Kid Cnrry's" head before he fell. 

Now the cowboy "bad man" ran for the 
swamps. Bloodhounds were put on his trail. He 
w^as found leaning against a tree, almost uncon- 
scious from the blow on the head. When told to 
throw up his hands, by the officers who followed 
the hounds, he paid no attention, although wide 
awake. 

This was the story told to me in Knoxville, la- 
ter. There I made the acquaintance of one of the 
two wounded policemen. 

Jim T , who owned about 500 head of fine 

range horses in partnership with the ' ' Kid, ' ' told 
me that he was the cause of ' ' Kid Curry ' ' becom- 
ing an outlaw, therefore he would remain his 
friend until death. 

He said that after the rough and tumble fight in 
the saloon, in the town of Landusky, Mont., (the 
fight starting over Pike Landusky calling "Kid 
Curry" a nigger, on account of his very dark skiti 
and hair." "The Kid" walked up to where he 
(Jim T — ,) was sitting on the saloon bar, wiping 
the blood from his face. Then Jim T — says he re- 
marked : " If I were you I would kill the old devil. ' ' 



244 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

He said he liad no idea that the "Kid" would 
take his words seriously. 

Now ''Kid Curry" pulled out his pistol and 
shot Pike Landuskj- dead — thus starting on the 
down-grade as one of the most daring robbers and 
murderers of the age. 

He killed many men, one of them being a Mr. 
Winters, who, in self defense, shot and killed his 
brother, Johnny Logan. His other brother, Lone\- 
Logan, was shot and killed by law officers in try- 
ing to effect his capture, while he was in hiding 
at his aunt's (Mrs. Lee) house near Dodson, Mis- 
souri. With a pistol in his hand he ran out of the 
house and was shot through the head by Ben 
Kimble. 

In 1912 I ate Christmas dinner in Santa Fe, 
New Mexico, then put my two pet saddle horses. 
Rowdy and Pat in a box car and started them 
south, ahead of me. In the same car was my large 
Russian wolf-hound dog. Eat 'Em up Jake, who 
could whip his weight in wild cats and not half 
try. My saddle, pack outfit, and bedding were in 
the same car. 

On the morning after Christmas I boarded a 
passenger train and overtook the horse car in 
Belen — where the stock were watered and fed, 
then sent on to iVtnarillo, Texas. 

I was starting out for the Gulf coast of Texas to 
visit my boyhood stamping ground, and in the 
spring to ride up the old Chishohn cattle trail to 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 245 

it's northern end, Abilene, Kansas, a distance of 
about 1200 miles. 1 was anxious to see liow much 
of this old trail had escaped bemg torn to pieces 
with plows and hoes. 

In the little city of Amarillo, built near the Am- 
arillo lake, where I had in 1877, seen a million buf- 
falo in one black mass, I laid over a day and night 
to visit former cowboy friends. One of these 
friends owned a butcher shop, in which hung i\. 
dressed buffalo bull, which he had purchased from 
Charlie Goodnight, to be sold on New Years Eve, 
at one dollar a pound. 

From this buffalo bull a hump loin was cut and 
in-esented to me as a treat. 

On leaving Amarillo the passenger conductor 
and his brakeman put the hump loin on ice, then 
telegraphed ahead to the manager of the Harvey 
House in Sweetwater, which was the end of the 
division, on the A. T. & S. F. Ry. to prepare us a 
fine midiiight supper, all but the meat, which we 
would furnish. 

The brakeman of this train, Mr. F. A. Dumek. 
liad been a buffalo hunter during the early '70s in 
Nebraska and Dakota. I asked him how many buf- 
falos he had seen at one time. He felt sure he had 
seen 10,000,000 head in one body as far as the 
eyes could reach. 

Even though he stretched the truth by 9,000,- 
000 head, that would leave a good sized herd, 
equal to the band seen by me at Amarillo lake. 



246 A LONE STAR COWBO i' 

We arrived in Sweetwater Citj^ at midnight. 
The manager of the Harvey House was waiting 
for us, to fill up on buffalo hump. The supper was: 
fine, this being my last taste of buffalo meat. 

On New Years day my ponies were unloaded in 
Bay City, the up-to-date county seat of Matagorda 
County. Here at this ver}" spot I had helped round 
up wild four year old mavericks in 1867. Little did 
I dream then that a young city would spring up 
on Bay Prairie, surrounded by prosperous farm- 
ers. 

From Ba3" City, mounted on my sorrel stallion. 
Rowdy, with Pat carrying the pack on his back, I 
started for the little city of Palacios, built ori 
Hamiltons Point, the jolace where I spent that 
dreadful night in the great storm of 1875. 

In Palacios I met old friends by the hundreds. 
Here lived my boyhood chum Billy "Williams, and 
bis wife, who, as Miss Martha Franz, was once the 
belle of Matagorda County. And here also lived 
ni}^ former cowboy chum, Nolan Keller, and the 
once little boy, Johnny Pierce, whom I escorted 
to and from school at the old Eancho Grande head- 
quarters, while I was on crutches. Now I find him 
a wealthy banker, with Nolan Keller's pretty 
black-eyed daughter as his wife. 

My old millionaire employer, John E. Pierce, 
heard that I was in the country and came down 
from Blessing — a town built with his money — to 
take me home with him. Of course I went, and 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 247 

put in a whole week of high living at his fine ne^: 
hotel in Blessing. 

While his guest, Mr. Pierce drove me in his 
buggy, drawn by a spirited team of bays, to see 
the old Eancho Grande headquarters. On the way 
there, while driving through the timber, Eat 'Em 
Up Jake showed his skill as a fighter. 

We were nearing a large white frame house by 
the side of the road. Mr. Pierce stopped the team 
and told me to put Eat 'Em Up Jake in the bug- 
gy, as, at this house there was a vicious brute 
which had killed many dogs. 

I laughed at the idea of him killing my dog, so 
I told Mr. Pierce to drive on, and just watch Jake 
take care of himself. 

When opposite the house there came a large 
black dog on the run, with a little yellow fice at 
his heels. Jake was trotting along ahead of us. The 
big brute sprang onto his back and mashed him to 
the ground. While the fight was raging, the fice 
kept nipping Jake on the hind legs. He quit the 
black dog long enough to toss the little fice up in- 
to the air the height of our buggy top. When he 
hit the ground he flew for home yelping. The big 
dog soon followed suit, with tail between his legs. 
Nearly every jump he made Jake would grab him 
by the hind quarters and give him a complete 
somersault. They were soon out of sight, in the 
rear of the dwelling. What happened there wo 
never knew. But Eat 'Em Up Jake came back to 



248 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

the buggy covered with blood, but not his own 
blood, as he came out of the fight without a 
scratch. 

Mr. Pierce was so tickled and joyful over this 
dog-killing brute finally meeting his match, that 
he acted like a school boy. He had to tell all his 
friends in Blessing about the great fight. 

We finally reached the old Rancho Grande 
headquarters, which had changed since my last 
visit to the place. 

AVe then drove to the old church house and 
grave-yard to see *' Shanghai" Pierce's $10,000 
statue, made of bronze, and erected before his 
death. It stood forty feet high, and was as nat- 
ural as life. In imagination I could hear "Shang- 
hai's" voice, which could be heard nearly half a 
mile, even when he tried to whisper. 

After m}^ week's visit with Mr. Pierce I went 
to the town of Midfield to eat free grub for sev- 
eral days with cattleman Fred Cornelius, and his 
pleasant family. While there I rode with him 
over his range to see the long-horn cattle wearing 
the brand T.5. connected, which I sold to him forty 
years previous. 

Of course I had to visit my old boyhood part- 
ner, Horace Yeamans, Avho lived in College-Post 
— a town built across the bay from Palacios. 
Mounted on my saddle horses he and I rode thru 
the streets of these would-be cities and marveled 
at the great changes which had taken place in for- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 249 

ty years, since we used to brand mavericks and 
skin cattle on this once wild prairie land. 

Now my horses were left in care of that old- 
time prince of cowboys, Nolan Keller, who is now 
weathly, and Eat 'Em Up Jake and I then boarded 
a train for the west, to visit Port Lavaca, Corpns 
Ghristi and other towns along the coast. 

One of the objects of this trip was to dig up the 
hidden secret of how the old Chisholm cattle trail 
derived its name. 

Most cattlemen and cowboys think it was nam- 
ed after the Pecos Eiver Cattle King, John Chis- 
um. But I felt sure it was not, as the names are 
spelt different, and John Chisum never drove cat- 
tle up that trail to Kansas. 

In Port Lavaca I found a banker, W. C. Noble, 
Avho drove '^up the Chisholm trail" eight times, 
and still he couldn't tell how the trail got it's 
name. But he felt sure that if I would go and see 
Col. Chisholm, who had a ranch on the Nueces 
River, the secret would be solved. 

A train took me to a small station, where a 
team and buggy were hired for the trip. 

I found Col. Chisholm to be a giant in size, with 
snow white hair. He almost burst his sides laugh- 
ing at the idea of the trail being named after him. 
He said he had never driven anything in his life 
but a yoke of oxen. 

On the trip I talked with hundreds of old trail 



250 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

drivers, but none could tell me the secret, so I re- 
turned to Palacios. 

Shortly after my return, Billy Williams, my 
boyhood chum, and I started across country, 
mounted on my saddle horses, for the town of Ma- 
tagorda, twenty-five miles distant. 

We rode in sight of a round mott or bunch of 
timber, which brought back memories of my fool 
cowboy days on this, then, wild prairie. 

This mott of timber stood on a 2200 acre tract 
of land which the owner, in 1873, offered to sell 
for ten cents an acre. I had nearly cash enough to 
buy it, and Mr. Jonathan Pierce offered to loan 
me the balance, without interest. He argued that 
it would make me rich if I would buy and hang 
onto it, until the country settled up. 

The skin was scratched off my scalp trying to 
make up my mind whether to buy it or not, I fin- 
ally decided that it never would be worth over one 
dollar an acre, so turned the deal down, and Mr. 
Pierce bought the tract at ten cents an acre. 

While visiting Mr. Pierce in Blessing, he told 
me of how he had sold some of this land, recently, 
at $150 an acre. The lowest price received being 
$60 an acre after being cut into small tracts. 

This shows how some men are born to look into 
the future, while others can't see further than the 
end of their noses. I belong in the latter class, and 
now felt like hiring a cheap man to kick me good 
and hard. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 251 

In Matagorda "Billy" and I made our home 
with Mr. Baltis Ryman and his family, the chief 
head cook of this swell home being Mrs. Ryman, 
"Billys" sister. 

A week was spent shaking hands, and "hark- 
ing back," with old friends and their offsprings, 
in this, the first town I had ever seen. Half the 
population were related to the Williams family. 

While here the old cemetery was visited, so as 
to tread on soil where my father was buried, 
when I was only one year old. 

A trip out to Big Hill to visit my old boyhood 
friend, Christian Zipprian and his family, ended 
our visit to this part of the county. 

My intention was to start up the old Chisholm 
cattle trail on March first, but as the time drew 
near, the horse-flies and mosquitos became so bad, 
causing my two pet horses so much misery, that 
I gave up the trip. These horses had been raised 
by me in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where there are 
no such insects to torment the life out of a horse. 

The trip up the old trail would have been during 
the w^orst fly and mosquito time. Hence I conclud- 
ed to avoid this by sometime', in the future, start- 
ing down the trail form Abilene, Kansas, early in 
the fall, reaching the Gulf coast during the winter 
season. 

About the first of March, in Bay City, my 
horses and outfit were put into a box-car, on the 



252 



A LONE STAR COWBO 7 




A LONE STAR COWBOY 253 

A. T. & S. F. Ry. and started back to their home in 
New Mexico's capital city. 

Of course Eat 'Em Up Jake had a nice bed in 
the same car with the horses. He was leaving this 
coast country with the satisfaction of knowing 
that he had taught the dog population to respect 
his high breeding. In every town visited he ha<i 
•to fight his way to respect. Often half a dozen 
dogs would jump onto him at the same time. No 
matter how many, it ended the same with JaKe as 
victor. Pie never would pick a fight himself, but 
was always there when it ended. 

The dogs w^ere like the people, they had never 
seen a Russian wolf-hound before, I could have 
sold hundreds of Jake's pups had they been in ex- 
istence. The six, which were on my ranch at Santa 
Fe, were snapped up quick when we first landed 
in Bay City. I wrote the man in charge of my 
place, Mr. Geo. S. Tweedy, to ship them down by 
express, which he did. 

Poor Eat 'Em Up Jake, about a year after re- 
turning home, dropped over dead while Mrs. H. 
M. Martin was patting him on the head. He re- 
ceived a decent burial by Geo. S. Tweedy. 

More than fifty of his pups had been sold, and 
given to friends. 

Eat 'Em Up Jake, Jr., one of Jake's pups can be 
seen any day, at the present writing, on the streets 
of Ssnta Fe, following his kind master, Mr. 
''Jack" F. Collins. He doesn't think any of the 



254 A LONE STAR COWBQv' 

fine Navajo blankets in his curio store is any too 
good for this high bred dog, (for whom he has re- 
fused a cash $500 offer) to stretch himself out on 
while napping. 

It seems that these Eussian wolf hounds enjoy 
sleeping on valuable rugs. While on our trip in 
southern Texas, Eat 'Em Up Jake had several 
fine parlor doors thrown wide open, so that he* 
could stretch out on valuable rugs, the kind wo)n- 
en folks thinking he made a fine picture while 
thus taking a restful dog nap. 

At one of these swell homes in Palacios, Texas, 
owned by Mr. and Mrs. John T. Price, Jake was in 
the habit of slipping away from me, so as to 
stretch himself on a fine brussels carpet. Even if 
his feet were muddy, good Mrs. Price would throw 
the door open when he stood on his hind feet and 
rapped for admittance. 

Eat 'Em Up Jake came by his name honestly. 
While on the Laramie plains in Wyoming, as a 
supposed outlaw, I traded a watch for this half 
starved, lanky Eussian wolf hound. I also traded 
my gentle saddle pony for a wild broncho. 

On leaving the Jim Ivirkbright ranch I had a 
forty mile ride to make over a wild stretch of 
country. 

The day was very warm, and when about ten 
miles on our journey the pup gave out complete- 
ly. There was nothing to do but shoot him or put 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 255 

liim Oil mv broncho. The latter course was adopt- 
ed. 

Riding up by the side of the panting pup I 
leaned over and grabbed him by the neck. When 
I started to rise up with the wooly bundle of bones 
the bucking contest began. The pup was thrown 
in front of me. Every time the broncho struck the 
ground my whole weight was thrown onto the 
pup's empty bread basket. For about five min- 
utes the air was full of yelping. 

About noon we reached a lake and I stopped to 
eat lunch. I shot a mud-hen in the lake and was 
skinning it for the pup. He smelled the blood and 
made a grab for the bird. He ate everything, 
feathers, bill and legs, and right there got his 
name of Eat 'Em Up Jake. 

I had to come back to New Mexico to learn the 
true story of how the old Chisholm cattle trail de- 
rived its name. 

This information was secured from Mr. David 
M. Sutherland, a highly respected citizen of Ala- 
mogordo, a nice little city which sprang into exis- 
tence near old Victoria's rendezvous. Dog Canyon. 

I had known Mr. Sutherland by reputation for 
over thirty years, henc^ I could rely on this infor- 
mation being truthful. He didn't have to depend 
altogether on memory, as he had kept a diary of 
the cattle drive in 1871. 

Here follows the true story of the Chisholm 
Trail as told to me by Mr. Sutherland, and con- 



256 



A LONE STAR COWBOi'' 



firmed through corresponding with old-timers in 
AVichita, Kansas: 

In about the year 1867 the United States Gov- 
ernment conchided to move the more than 3,000 
AVichita and affiliated tribes of Indians, known 
as the Caddos, AVacos, Andarkos, etc., to a new 
reservation in the southern part of the Indian Ter- 
ritory, 

Their camp was located on the Arkansas River 
near where Chisholm and Cow-Skin creeks empty 
into that stream. They had been moved there by 
the government during the Rebellion. Major Hen- 
ry Shanklin was in charge of them. 

Previous to the time of moving these Indians 
to their new reservation Major Shanklin made a 
deal with a rich half-breed *' Squaw-man" by the 




JESSE CHISHOLM, 
Father of the Chisholm Trail. 



name of Jesse Chisholm, to open a trail, and es- 
tablish supply depots through the Indian Terri- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 257 

tory to Red River, the dividing line of Texas and 
the ''Nation." 

With a large train of ox-teams Jesse Chisholm 
went to Ft. Leavenworth on the Missouri River, to 
load up with Government supplies. 

On his reutrn to the camp, on the Arkansas 
River, 100 wild ponies were bought for the trip 
through the Indian Terntory. 

These were used to settle the quick-sand in the 
treacherous streams of Salt Fork the Cimarron, 
the North Canadian and the South Canadian. 

Ahead of the heavily loaded wagons this band 
of ponies were driven back and forth, many times, 
to settle the quick-sand. 

Dug-outs were built at certain points, and a sup- 
ply of grub, etc., left, for the Indians and Sol- 
diers, to follow later. 

The more than 3000 Indians with their thous- 
ands of ponies, along with the many mounted Sol- 
diers, traveling in the ruts made by Jesse Chis- 
liolm's heavily loaded wagons made a plain road- 
way. It was christened the Chisholm trail, and 
over its surface passed millions of long-horn cat- 
tle in the years following. 

After the Indians had vacated their camp tlie 
Government sold the land, and the present city of 
Wichita, Kansas, was established on the old camp 
ground. 

AVhen the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Rail- 
road reached the town of Wichita, and built ship- 



258 A LONE STAR COW^OV 

ping pens, a few years later, the enterprising citi- 
zens began planning to turn the trail herds away 
from Baxter Springs, in the south-east corner of 
Kansas, into Wichita. 

In the closing years of the '60 's, the Union Pa- 
cific Railroad had reached Abilene, Kansas, fur- 
ther north, and that town backed by the Union Pa- 
cific railroad comi3any, laid plans to get some of 
the Texas cattle trade. 

In the spring of 1870 Mr. David M. Sutherland, 
who was associated with Major Henry Shanklin, 
went to Bosque Count}^, Texas, and purchased a 
herd of long-horn cattle, which were driven over 
the new Chisholm trail to Wichita, thence to Abi- 
lene. 

The following spring, 1871, Major Shanklin and 
Mr. Sutherland were employed by the Union Pa- 
cific Railway Company to turn the cattle drive 
away from Baxter Springs, onto the Chisholm 
trail, through the Indian Territory. 

Mr. Sutherland went to Gainesville, Texas, to 
meet the Baxter Springs trail herds and induce 
the owners and bosses to turn west to Red River 
station, where they would strike the Chisholm 
trail and have good grass and water all the way 
through the Indian Territory. 

During the season Mr. Sutherland, and the 
boosters sent by the town of Wichita, succeeded 
in turning most of the herds to the Chisholm 
trail. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 259 

Mr. Sutherland says that in April, 1871 he made 
a cut-off trail with plows, from Pilot Point to 
Boliver, in the state of Texas, for the herds to fol- 
low. That from Boliver to Red Elver Station there 
was already a plain wagon road. 

It is said that the Wichita boosters paid as high 
as $500 to owners and bosses to induce them to 
change their course from Baxter Springs to the 
Chisholm trail at Red River Station. 

During the next season, 1872, the whole trail 
drive continued north from Austin, Texas, to Red 
River Station, and the entire route to Abiline, 
Kansas, became known as the Chisholm trail. 

At the Montopolis crossing on the Colorado 
River, two and a half miles l^elow the Capital City 
of Austin, Texas, the many small trails from all 
over the Gulf Coast merged into the Chisholm 
trail, which was now a solid road-way, several 
hundred yards wide, all the way to Wichita and 
Abilene, Kansas. 

Every season for ten long years this old trail 
was used. At least 5,000,000 head of cattle, 
and a half million Spanish mares, with wdiich to 
stock new horse ranches on the northern ranges, 
were driven over it during those years. 

Some individual owners drove many herds each 
season. 

I can only recall the names of a few of the most 
prominent trail drovers. A Mr. Fant, of Golliad, 
Texas, King and Kennedy, of Corpus Christi, Un- 



260 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

cle Henry JSteveus and the firm of Millett and Ma- 
berry, I believe drove the greatest number of 
herds each season. 

As large trail drivers, Hood and Hughes, W. B. 
Grimes, "Shanghai" Pierce, Capt. George Lit- 
tlefield, Charlie and Tom Word, the Lovings, 
Driseols, Slaughters, Collins' and Pryors were 
prominent names on the trail. At the present writ- 
ing Col. Ike Pryor is president of the Texas Cat- 
tlemen's Association, with headquarters in San 
Antonio, Texas. 

The Days, Dan Waggoner and Hunter and Ev- 
ans were well known on the Chisholm trail. 

No doubt King and Kennedy would take the 
premium as the hirgest trail drivers. 

This Mr. King, who, with his partner, Mr. Ken- 
nedy, owned the largest cattle ranch in Texas, was 
the cause of the word ''Cattle-King," as applied 
to large cattle owners, being incorporated into our 
language. It started thus : 

In the early days when speaking of a Mr. King 
the question would be asked : ''Which King do you 
meanf" The answer would be: "The Cattle 
King" — meaning Mr. King of the firm of King 
and Kennedy. He was "The Cattle King" in name 
as well as a Cattle King in the ownership of the 
largest cattle ranch in Texas. 

Dan Waggoner was one of the great "Cattle 
Kings" of Texas. He got his start in the early 
'70s by buying new Mitchell wagons on the Mis- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 26.1 

souri river, and with oxen and mnles, hauling 
them, trailed together, down the Chisholm trail 
into Texas. These wagons being traded for wild 
long-horn steers, which were then cheap and a 
drug on the market, while the wagons were 
scarce and commanded a high price. 

"Uncle" Steve Birchfield, now a wealthy resi- 
dent of El Paso, Texas, with ranches along the 
Mexico border, was also a prominent trail driver. 
I first met him in Wichita, Kansas, in 1876, and in 
the fall of 1915, about thirty-seven years later, 1 
spent more than a week with him at the Park 
Hotel in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Of course we 
"harked back" to the good old days of long- 
horn cattle. 

One of the stories he related will show the na- 
ture of some of those who drove "up the Chisholm 
trail" to Kansas. 

In 1873 "Uncle" Steve Birchfield made up a 
herd of steers in Uvalde County, Texas. 

At the same time a man known as "Black Bob" 
had a herd ready to start "up the trail." Owing 
to the danger of Indians, in passing through the 
Indian "Nation," Birchfield and "Black Bob" 
agreed to keep their herds close together. 

On their arrival at Red River, "Black Bob" 
had a bad stampede during a stormy night and 
lost a few steers, by them mixing up with local 
range cattle. 



262 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The next day both herds were put across Red 
Eiver into the ''Nation." 

Now ''Black Bob" sent most of his crew back 
into Texas to gather up the lost steers. He told 
his men to gather all steers with mnddy feet, 
showing that they had been running in mud dur- 
ing the stampede. 

When the crew returned they had about 700 
head of muddy footed steers, owned by various 
northern Texas cattlemen. These were put into 
"Black Bob's" herd and the journey continued. 

In order to avoid the state inspector at Red 
River station, the boys had crossed the river in 
the night, below the trail crossing. 

Now "Black Bob" had a large size herd. He 
had no mess-wagon, the grub and bedding being- 
carried on pack ponies. 

On reaching Pond Creek, near the Kansas bor- 
der, "Black Bob" came verj'- near starting a war 
with a large band of Osage Indians, who were 
headed west on a big buffalo hunt. 

Arriving near the town of Wichita, their camps 
were pitched close together. Then part of each 
crew went to Wichita to celebrate. 

"Uncle" Steve Birchfield says he secured a 
room in the new Occidental Hotel, which vras not 
yet completed. His room fronted on the main 
street, and it had no window sashes in the place 
left open for a window. 

Being tired he went to bed earlv. About dav- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 263 

light he heard pistol shots and yelling on the 
street. He went to the open window and looked 
out. There he saw some of ' ' Black Bob 's ' ' drunk- 
en cowboys charging np and down the street on 
their ponies. 

There were two gun stores in town, each having 
a large wooden gun for a sign. Two of "Black 
Bob's" cowboys tore loose these wooden guns and 
were carrying them across the front of their sad- 
dles. 

Soon a crowd of "fool hoe-men" who had come 
to town the evening previous to buy supplies, and 
who were up early, so as to get an early start for 
home, collected in front of the Occidental Hotel. 
The boys with the wooden guns charged up to the 
crowd and asked if they had heard of the Osage 
Indians turning out on the war-path. They told 
of being in a battle with the Indians the day be- 
fore at Pond Creek, in the "Nation," and of how 
they had ridden all night to reach "Wichita. 

They said the Indians had killed many white 
men, and were now headed for Medicine Lodge, 
one hundred miles west of Wichita. 

"Uncle" Steve says many of these "fool hoe- 
men" didn't wait long enough to hear the whole 
news of the great Indian outbreak. They ran in 
every direction to get thiir teams to |iurry home 
and protect their families. 

The news spread like wild-fire, and soon reach- 
ed the Governor of the state, in Topeka. He at 



264 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

once called out the state militia, and hurried them 
to Medicine Lodge. 

There being no funds to pay these militia men, 
he sent an agent to Medicine Lodge to organize a 
new county, so as to vote bonds to pay the militia. 

The new county of Barbour was organized, witli 
Medicine Lodge as the county seat.. 

There not being sufficient voters in the new 
county, the soldier boys were allowed to cast a 
vote, so as to issue $60,000 worth of county bonds, 
to pay the soldiers. 

An agent was sent East to sell these bonds, and 
he skipped out with the cash received for them. 

The militia finally had a skirmish and rounded 
up the band of friendly Osage Indians, whose 
anger had been stirred up hy ''Black Bob" at 
Pond Creek. Thus did Barbour County, Kansas, 
get a place on the state map. 

These "fool hoe-men" as we "locoed" cowboys 
called the new settlers, had a good reason for 
their excitement, as, a few years previous, 
the Osage Indians had turned out on the warpath 
and murdered many white men in the southern 
part of Kansas, their reservation being over the 
line in the "Nation". 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 265 

CHAPTER XL 

A BLOOD SPATTERED ROAD IN NEW 
MEXICO. 

I SERVE TWO YEARS AS NEW MEXICO 
RANGER. 

In the fall of 1915 I spent several weeks at 
Tularosa on that blood spattered road between 
Lincoln and Las Criices. While here I saw the 
fresh blood still in the road where the last man 
was killed, a short time previous. 

This life-blood had flown from the veins of 
Ralph Connell, a lawyer and stockman of Tula- 
rosa. He was driving a bunch of cattle up to the 
Mescalaro Indian Reservation, where he had a 
contract to furnish beef to the Indians. 

With him were his twelve year old daughter, 
and two Mexican cowboys. When about two miles 
out of Tularosa, in front of Jim Porter's nice 
residence, a bullet from a high-power rifle pierced 
his heart, and he fell from his horse. He and cow- 
boy Jim Porter were bitter enemies, and the sup- 
position is that Porter sent the bullet on its deadly 
mission. 

In Tularosa lived my cowboy friend, John P. 
Meadows, one of the most law abiding men of the 
a£:e. Whenever a murder was committed he was 



266 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

in the saddle, on the side of Justice. He had been 
one of sheriff Pat Garrett 's most trusted deputies 
and friends, until that fearless peace-officer met 
death, on this same blood-spattered road. He was 
on his way to Las Cruces when shot and killed. 

My friend Capt. Fred Fornoff, then at the head 
of the New Mexico Mounted Police, who investi- 
gated the matter, feels confident that desperado 
Jim Miller fired the bullet that killed Pat Gar- 
rett, although another man got the credit for it, 
as, according to Capt. Fornoff 's statement, it was 
a put up job. 

But this ^'bad" man Miller, who had been a 
killer of men in Texas for years, met his just dues 
by being swung up to a tree shortly afterwards. 

He had just gone back to his old stamping- 
ground in Oklahoma and was hanged b}^ a mob. 

A friend of mine, who lived in the neighborhood, 
told me the facts in the case. 

The mob were after Miller and his chum, who 
camped in an old barn that night. A stranger had 
come along and camped with them, not knowing 
who they were. 

When the mob stormed the barn the stranger 
was hanged with the other two, as he had been 
caught in bad company. But, when too late, it was 
found out that he had accidentally struck up with 
these two ''bad" men. 

John P. Meadows was born and raised within 
fifteen miles of Pat Garrett, in Lee County, Ala- 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 



267 



bama, tlie date of his birth being May 26th, 1854, 
and his birth-place being the town of Mechanics- 
ville. He drifted to Eastland County, Texas, in 
1873. 




JOHN P. MEADOWS. 



268 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

In the fall of 1874 lie hired out to George Knox 
to kill buffalo for their hides. Here he met Pat 
Garrett, who had just killed his first man, a Mr. 
Glen. 

The following year John Meadows worked for 
Johnny Larn and John Sillman — "two of the 
meanest men who ever lived," as Meadows ex- 
pressed it. 

This is the same Johnny Larn who was shot to 
death in jail by a mob, and the same John Sillman 
who, I am sure, killed the two Mexican boys and 
stole their band of sheep, in 1878. 

Up to 1877, John Meadows was a buffalo hunter. 
He then became a cowboy for the Millett brothers, 
who owned a large cattle ranch, and drove many 
herds "up the Chisholm trail." 

In 1879 Meadows and my old cowboy friend, 
Tom Harris, drifted to Ft. Sumner, New Mexico, 
where they met "Billy the Kid," who befriended 
them, which touched a soft spot in John Mead- 
ow's heart. Since then Meadows has been an hon- 
ored citizen of New Mexico. 

The above mentioned Tom Harris was the lead- 
er in the first and only cowboy strike which ever 
took place. This unique strike for higher wages 
was pulled off in the Panhandle of Texas, about 
the year 1886. The Panhandle cattlemen hired Pat 
Garrett and a crowd of fighting rangers to put 
down the trouble. Some blood was spilled and 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 269 

many enemies made while the strike lasted. Tas- 
cosa was the striker's headquarters. 

Ever since the spring of 1882, when I bade Mr. 
and Mrs. George Nesbeth goodby in Las Cruces, 
and they expressed a fear that Pat Cohglin would 
have them murdered, I have had a desire to see 
their graves, and to learn the truth of their mur- 
der. Therefore, during my stay in Tularosa, this 
desire was gratified. 

John P. Meadows had helped to run down the 
murderers, and to lay the bodies of Mr. and Mrs. 
Nesbeth, their adopted daughter, and the stranger 
traveling with them, in their graves. He gave me 
the full details of the case, the substance of which 
follows : 

With a covered wagon, drawn by two horses, 
they left Las Cruces for their new home at Blaz- 
iers Mill. They were all murdered at the point of 
the White Sands, about half way between Las 
Cruces and Tularosa, on August 17th, 1882. They 
were killed by two Mexicans at night, while in 
camp. 

A prospector hunting lost burros found their 
swollen bodies quite a while afterwards. 

The horses and everything of value, except the 
wagon and harness, had been taken away by the 
murderers, and this led to their identification, la- 
ter. 

When run down the murderers proved to be 
Rupert Lara and Maximo Appodaco. In their con- 



270 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

fession at the trial tliey swore that Pat Cohglin 
had hired them, for $1000, to kill Mr. and Mrs. 
Nesbeth. That they had to kill the little girl and 
the stranger to prevent them giving the alarm. 

Both were convicted for the crime. Shortly af- 
terwards Appodaco committed suicide, and Lara 
was hanged by the neck until dead. 

Pat Cohglin was never brought to trial. His 
money, no doubt, saved his neck, as he was an ex- 
pert at using his wealth where it would do the 
most good for himself, and for the wife he swap- 
ped for. When he left Texas he swapped wives 
with his brother-in-law, they being married to sis- 
ters. 

This information I received from Captain F. B. 
Taylor, of the United States Army. His letter 
was written in Ft. Leavenworth Kans., and dated 
Feb. 4th, 1886. Here is a quotation from this per- 
sonal letter to me : 

''That little stone Jacal where the ''Kid" was 
captured gave me shelter once from a blinding- 
sand storm. In those days it was occupied by Mex- 
icans. 

"Pat Cohglin was well known to all my regi- 
ment before he moved from Texas to Tularosa. 
He made a c^ueer trade, or swap, when he and his 
brother-in-law, Taylor, swapped wives at the time 
they broke partnership. A brief history of how he 
acquired possession of that store, on the plaza in 
Tularosa, would make interesting reading. I was 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 271 

stationed at Ft. Stanton, New Mexico, for several 

years." 

My old friend *'Buck" Prude, who owned the 
trading store at the Mescalero Indian Reserva- 
tion, took John Meadows and me in an automobile 
to the Indian Reservation. 

On the way there we stopped at a Mexican's 
house to see the bullet marks in the door, as a re- 
minder of one battle which took place on this 
blood-spattered road. 

In this battle two of John Goodes cowboys, 
Johnson and "Dutch," murdered Howe, the own- 
er of this ranch, this being in the spring of 1887. 

With the help of Indian trailers John P. Mead- 
ows ran down these two murderers, and assisted 
in their conviction. 

At Blaziers Mill, within two miles of the Indian 
Agency, w^e visited the grave-yard on a round 
mound, where rest the bodies of poor Mr. and 
Mrs. George Nesbeth, as also those of the little 
girl and the stranger who were murdered with 
them. 

As Meadows helped to bury them he could point 
out each grave. He also pointed out the graves of 
the men killed in the battle here between *'Bilty 
the Kid's" gang, and the Seven River warriors. 
In this bloody battle my friend George Coe, now a 
respected ranchman of Glencoe, New Mexico, lost 
one of his fingers. His brother, Frank Coe, a well- 



272 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

to-do rancliman on the Riodoso river, was also in 
this battle, helping ''Billy the Kid." 

After the Lincoln County war the Coe broth- 
ers, being law abiding men, quit the ''Kid's" 
gang. 

I spent two days in the Mescalaro Indian Agen- 
cy as the guest of the Indian Agent, Mr. Jefferies, 
and his lovely wife. 

Strange to relate, here I found Mr. Miller, in 
charge of the Indian Police, holding down the 
same job that he held when I first met him in the 
spring of 1881, at which time Maj. W. H. Llewel- 
lyn, of rough rider fame, was the Agent. Thirty- 
three years is a long time to hang onto one job. 

On returning to Santa Fe from this trip I made 
preparations to start for Abilene, Kansas, mount- 
ed on Rowdy, with Pat as a pack-horse, to ride 
down the Old Chisholm cattle trail to the Gulf 
Coast of Texas, to mark the prominent places for 
the benefit of posterity, and to satisf}" a foolish 
desire. 

As markers I aimed to use a large pair of al- 
uminum steer horns, with the name "Chisholm 
Trail." on each horn. They were to be fastened 
onto two inch galvanized pipe, set into a cement 
foundation. 

I had made a deal with an Erie, Pa. firm to fur- 
nish these horns at $2.80 a pair, I figured that 
each marker, complete, w^ould cost $20. 

In some way the Wichita, Kansas, Daily Beacon 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 273 

heard of ray plans and intentions, and came out 
with a column and a half write-up. Other papers 
copied the article. 

Shortly after, I received a letter from my old- 
time friend, Chas. H. Moore, Vice President of the 
National City Bank, in Kansas City, Mo., with in- 
structions to draw on him for the cost of one 
marker, to be placed on the old trail where it 
crossed Bluff Creek, on the line of Kansas and 
Oklahoma, about two miles south of Caldwell. 

This is as far as the Chisholm trail came to 
being marked, as the late war with Germany caus- 
ed aluminum metal to soar skyward in price, so 
that the Erie, Pa. firm cancelled their agreement 
with me. Hence my trip was given up — and the 
old trail may never be marked. 

Early in the spring of 1916 my friend. Governor 
Wm. C. McDonald, persuaded me to accept a po- 
sition as E-anger, with a commission as Mounted 
Police, for the Cattle Sanitary Board of New 
Mexico. 

Therefore, on the first day of March I started 
south, mounted on Rowdy, with the pack on Pat, 
and Jumbo, an offspring of Eat 'Em Up Jake, 
chasing jack rabbits on ahead. 

Governor McDonald had selected Carrizozo, the 
present county seat of Lincoln County, as my 
headquarters. 

Bill Owens, a fighting son-of-a-gun, was select- 
ed as my partner, we to have jurisdiction over 



274 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

seven counties, north of tlie Old Mexico border, to 
run down outlaws and stock thieves. 

But poor Bill Owens only lasted a short time. In 
a fight with two Mexican cattle thieves, at Abo 
Pass, he was shot through the lungs and lay at the 
point of death for a long time. This ended his use- 
fulness as a mounted Ranger. 

After he had fallen. Bill Owens emptied his pis- 
tol into the thief who had shot him. Both of the 
thieves were killed. 

Near the edge of Carrizozo Governor McDonald 
had his fine ranch home, at Carrizozo Springs, 
and here we met often to discuss my work, much 
of which was done on the large Block cattle range, 
owned by McDonald and his associates, along the 
northern foot-hills of the Capitan mountains. 

On several occasions Governor McDonald's 
ranch manager, Mr. Truman A. Spencer, who was 
married to the Governor's only daughter, took me 
on hurried trips in his fine large automobile. Mr. 
Spencer is "shore" some driver, when it comes 
to swiftness, and carefulness. 

When in Carrizozo I made Dr. M. G. Paden's 
drug-store and hospital my loafing place. The 
doctor was one of the young "bucks" batching 
with W. C. McDonald, Jim Brent, and Andy Rol)- 
enson, near my camp in White Oaks during the 
winter of 1880-81. Later he went to Louisville, 
Kentucky, and studied medicine, which made him 
one of New Mexico's leading physicians. 



• A LONE STAR COWBOY 275 

In Carrizozo my old friend, Mr. George Ulrick, 
President of the Exchange Bank, who lived in 
White Oaks during the boom days there, took me 
up to his fine new home and introduced me to his 
good wife. He showed me one of the nicest fur- 
nished rooms in the house, and said this should 
be mine so long as my headquarters were in Carri- 
zozo, free of rent. 

Of course I had to decline the kind offer, as it 
would be taking advantage of good nature. I had 
already rented a nice room in the home of Charlie 
Ross, who was connected with Dr. Paden's drug- 
store. This remained my home for over two years, 
during my visits to the town. Mrs. Ross and their 
young son, Charlie, made my life pleasant. 

Some of my work was done around White Oaks, 
and I was compelled to drag into Court, for cattle 
stealing, men whom I knew when they were boys. 
It was a matter of business with me, still they will 
never live long enough to forgive me. 

In White Oaks I was treated royally by old time 
friends, among them being Judge John Y. Hewett 
and Charlie D. Mayer, the leading merchant there. 
Mayer had married Ina Wauchope, grand-daugh- 
ter of the old placer miner, John Wilson, who 
helped put White Oaks on the map. I knew her 
when she was a pretty young miss, thinking of 
the happy day when she would become a woman. 
She still hangs on to some of her good looks and 
all of her winning ways. 



276 A LONE STAR COWBOY * 

I found Arabella and tlie Palos Springs, Mexi- 
can settlements, at the east end of the Capitan 
mountains, to be a nest of cattle thieves, although 
many law abiding men lived there. 

Governor McDonald had told me that these 
Mexican thieves would try to run me out of the 
country, as they had. done with other officers sent 
in there to catch them stealing Block cattle. 

My work in Arabella proved exciting, and show- 
ed the ignorance and viciousness of the Mexican 
Justice of the Peace there, who protected the 
cattle thieves. 

I made the mistake of trying the first four 
thieves arrested by me in the Justice of the 
Peace Court. The ''Judge" put the thieves on the 
witness stand to hear their side of the story, but 
wouldn't allow me to put my witness' on the stand. 

The father of one of the thieves, who in the 
early days was mixed up in one of the coldest 
blooded murders ever pulled off, acted as lawyer 
for the defence. He ruled the Court. 

When it was over the Court freed the prisoners 
and assessed the cost of the case, $25, against me, 
giving orders to the armed constable to not allow 
me to leave the court room until the costs were 
paid. 

With my hand on my pistol I started for the 
door. The constable with his hand on his pistol 
started to stop mo. I told him to stand back, which 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 277 

he did, thus preventing the floor from being- 
smeared with blood. 

In front of the court room which was full of 
Mexicans, "Red" Dale, one of the Block cowboys, 
sat on his horse holding my mount by the bridle 
reins. 

Keeping my eyes on the crowd, which had fol- 
lowed me out of the door, my mount was reached. 
Then pulling the high power rifle from the scab- 
bard on the saddle, I rode away with it in my hand, 
ready for action. 

After galloping two miles west I allowed ' ' Red ' ' 
Dale to continue on the wagon road back to the 
Block round-up camp, in charge of Mr. Llovd 
Taylor. 

I then cut across the mountains for the Arroyo 
Seco ranch, owned by Governor McDonald, a dis- 
tance of nine miles. 

Arriving there Mrs. Roberts got me a quick 
meal. Then I rounded up nine head of stolen hors- 
es, in a small pasture, and started with them for 
the Block ranch, twenty miles west. 

A couple of days previous I had captured the 
band of horses from outlaw "Chon" Romero and 
his son. This "Chon" Romero was a daring out- 
law. Soon after, he was shot dead on the street of 
Arabella by one of Sheriff Walker Hyde's Mexi- 
can deputies. 

Cowboy Johnny Roberts, assisted me in getting 
the band of horses started on the road. 



278 A LONE STAR COWBOi'' 

I was barely out of sight when the Arabelhi 
constable and a deputy, both armed with high pow- 
er rifles, and having a warrant for my arrest, 
rode up to the Arroyo Seco ranch house. They 
asked for me, and Mr. Roberts, who had just re- 
turned, told them that I had left in an automobile 
for Carrizozo. An auto had been there a short time 
previous, and the fresh tracks showed in the road. 
Now the disappointed officers, who had followed 
my tracks, after the Justice of the Peace had is- 
sued a warrant for my arrest, returned home. 

I reached the Block ranch just in time to get a 
swift automobile night ride with Mr. Truman 
Spencer. 

The next morning in Carrizozo I had a talk with 
District Attorney H. B. Hamilton, and from him 
found out that it would have been a case of mur- 
der had I killed the constables while they held a 
warrant for my arrest. I was under the impression 
that these officers had no lawful right to arrest 
me outside of their precinct — hence I had made 
up my mind to fight them to a finis,h had they 
overtaken me. It was lucky for me that Mr. Rob- 
erts turned them back. 

Now I swore out warrants before a Justice of 
the Peace in Carrizozo for the four prisoners 
whom the xVrabella ''Judge" had set free. Then 
Deputy Sheriff John B. Baird — whose father was 
a fearless Texas sheriff, whom I knew — and I 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 279 

drove to Arabella, a distance of seventy-five miles, 
and arrested the four released prisoners. 

At their trial in Carrizozo they were put under 
a bond of $1000 each to appear at the next term 
of the District Court in Carrizozo. 

Much of my future work was done around Ara- 
bella, and the thieving gang became docile. I re- 
ceived much valuable assistance from cowboy Hen- 
ry Rogers, who had charge of the Block ranch at 
Steel Springs. Also that prince of a good fellow, 
Phil Blanchard, whom I knew when he was a boy 
in White Oaks, and who now owns a large stock 
ranch, gave me much assistance, at the risk of 
making bitter enemies in Arabella, near where his 
ranch was situated. 

Many old wells in the Arabella neighborhood 
were full of Block cattle hides thrown in after 
the animals were butchered. From one well seven- 
ty-five hides were taken out. 

Near the town of Encinoso we had a laughable 
experience with Mexican cattle thieves. Cowboys 
Johnny Littleton, a Mr. Stratton and I made a 
raid on a settlement, searching several houfees for 
fresh beef. At the Baca home the folks willingly 
showed me through the house, and pointed out 
some goat meat cooking. 

When I stepped around the outside of the house 
I saw Jumbo eying a large box. It proved to be full 
of fresh beef. 

At the Lucero home the table was set for dinner. 



280 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

The family swore they had no beef of any kind. I 
opened the oven door and brought forth the head 
of a yearling baked, to a nice brown. It seemed a 
shame to rob these people of their dinner, but I 
needed the head as evidence. 

In a cabin on the premises we found the whole 
beef. It had been butchered inside the cabin and 
the door kept locked. In the ashes in the fire- 
place I dug out the horns of the animal, and the 
piece of hide containing the Block brand. 

Before hauling this nice fat beef away to be dis- 
tributed among our friends I gave the Lucero fam- 
ily part of a hind quarter to pay for th,e head tak- 
en out of the oven, so that the two pretty young- 
daughters would not be deprived of their dinner. 

The father and son, and young Baca were ar- 
rested and taken to Carrizozo, where they were 
put under bond to appear before Judge Medler in 
the District Court. 

They employed my friend Col. Geo. W. Prichard 
to defend them, which meant the wearing out of 
their cases in the courts. 

After war broke out with Germany, Col. Prich- 
ard secured Baca's freedom; so that he could join 
the army. 

In order to gather up stray horses I attended a 
spring horse round-up on the Mescalaro Indian 
Reservation, putting in about two weeks there. 
The round-up crews were all Indians, and the way 
they abused horses made my heart bleed. They 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 281 

have no more mercy for a wild broncho than for 
a rattle snake. And they don't know the first prin- 
ciple of handling wild horses. 

Some of my work was done on the Riodo'so 
River, in the Glencoe neighborhood, and there I 
enjoyed life. It seemed like going back to my early 
cowboy life, where everyone seemed like a father, 
mother, brother or sister. 

I generally put up at Bert Bonnells fine home. 
He was a son of Mr. Ed Bonnell who ran the lum- 
ber yard in White Oaks in the early days, and 
whom I held in high esteem. 

Bert had married one of Frank Coe's pretty 
daughters, and she is "shore" a peach as a sing- 
er, musician, and knowing how to make visitors 
feel at home. 

Here I attended many dances which generally 
wound up in a regular old fashioned Texas "ho- 
down. ' ' 

Below the Bonnell ranch Mr. Frank Coe has his 
fine home, and his whole family are musicians. 
And one mile above lives Mr. George Coe and his 
fine family. These Coe brothers were in many bat- 
tles with "Billy the Kid" during the bloody Lin- 
coln County war. George Coe takes pride in the 
loss of one finger in the battle at Blaziers Mill. 

It was near George Coe 's ranch where Mr. Tun- 
stall was killed by the Seven Eiver warriors, 
which started the Lincoln County war. 

Being a Justice of the Peace, I brought some of 



282 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

my cattle stealing cases into Mr. Coe's Court. In 
arresting Mexican thieves on the Eiodoso, I was 
assisted by Will Coe and Lon Hunter, two fear- 
less cowboys. My old friend, Mr. J. V. Tully, the 
jjostmaster and merchant in Glencoe, who also 
owns a large cattle ranch, assisted me in many 
ways. 

The Mexicans are not all thieves by any means. 
As a rule they are a law abiding people, and in 
some ways have got the ''Americans" beat a mile. 
They are the most hospitable race on earth. Money 
don't count when it comes to caring for a tired 
and hungry stranger. They will give up their bed 
and sleep on the floor, themselves, to make it 
pleasant for a "Gringo," as the "Americans" are 
called. 

No matter how poor a Mexican family is, you 
will find the inside of their house neat and clean. 
The worst fault of the woman-folks is their fond- 
ness for babies and fice dogs. The smaller the 
baby or puppy the greater the affection. 

While attending one term of court in Carrizozo 
I was taught how old "Father Time" heals 
wounds. I was introduced to Mr. Augustin Kay- 
ser, who owns a small cattle ranch near Corona. 
He remembered my name, and asked: "Say, in 
1872, when you were a boy, did someone steal your 
rain blanket, one stormy night?" 

Of course I remembered it, as, for several years 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 283 

it had left a bitter feeling in my heart, against the 
thief. 

He then conbinued: '^Well, Charlie, I am the 
thief who kept dry that night under your blanket. 
Of course I felt sorry for you, but it was a case of 
self protection, as I had lost my slicker," (rain 
coat.). 

AVe were putting up a herd of long-horn steers 
for the trail, I, being on the last guard, had gone 
to bed, leaving my saddled night horse tied to a 
tree near by. On my saddle was a Mexican rain 
blanket, used instead of a slicker. They are made 
narrow and long, with a slit in the center to stick 
^our head into, the fringed ends coming down be- 
low the boot tops. On getting wet they become 
hard, and turn water like rubber. 

On this particular night a severe rain storm 
sprang up and every sleeping cowboy had to 
spring onto his night-horse. 

A stampede followed, and during the balance of 
the night I suffered greatly from the cold spring 
rain. The next morning my blanket was found ly- 
ing on my bed, the rain having ceased. 

In southern Texas these fancy colored blankets 
were plentiful, but I never saw but one of them 
in the Panhandle country. During a cold blizzard, 
or rain storm there, if you happened to see a Mexi- 
can blanket coming towards you, or going in an 
opposite direction, you could bet your last dollar 
that Jim East's head, covered with a gold and sil- 



284 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ver mounted sombrero, was sticking out of the 
slit in the center. 

During my two years work as Eanger and 
Mounted Police I had the pleasure of visiting- 
some of my old stamping grounds, such as Ross- 
well, Capitan, Nogal, Ft. Stanton and Lincoln. 

Capitan can boast of the biggest high-school 
building, and the biggest general mercantile es- 
tablishment, owned by two wide-awake cattlemen, 
George and Will Titsworth, in Lincoln County. 
Also the biggest little weekly newspaper, "The 
Mountaineer," owned and conducted by a big man 
with a big heart and a bigger name, Mr. Neil H. 
Bigger. As Mr. Bigger has passed the spring- 
chicken age he couldn't get out such a spicy local 
paper without the help of his broad-gauge son. 
Mr. Sam. J. Bigger. 

Capitan also has at her back door one of the 
largest cattle ranches, the Block outfit, in the 
whole state of New Mexico. Cowboy Frank Ellis, 
and Jim Woodland are permanent fixtures on this 
well conducted ranch, and they are both beginning 
to turn grey over worrjdng about the welfare of 
these thousands of fine white-face cattle. 

As a boy Jim Woodland drifted from Texas 
with Tom (3'Phalliard, ''Billy the Kid's" dearest 
chum. Instead of turning outlaw he became a 
deputy sheriff under sheriff Kimbrall, which po- 
sition he held when I first met liim at White Oaks, 
in 1880. 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 285 

In Lincoln the old two story Court-house, where 
"Billy the Kid" pulled off his great and daring 
stunt, still stands as a monument to remind old- 
timers of the days when Lincoln County covered 
a territory nearly 200 miles square. Since then 
she has been cut up into several counties. In Eos- 
well and along the Pecos river the greatest change 
has taken place. In this lovely little city of Roswell 
where, in 1881 Tom Emory grazed the LX steers 
on the grassy flat in front of Capt. J. C. Lea's 
store, while we were attending the round-ups on 
John Chisum's range, now stands costly business 
blocks. 

And five miles south, where we attended ho- 
down dances in the Texas settlement called Pump- 
kin Row, there are now fine homes and orchards. 

In fact the whole Pecos valley clear down to the 
Texas line is a garden spot, with little cities and 
towns by the score, Artesia, Carlsbad, Dexter, 
Dayton, Lake Arthur, Malaga, Hagerman, Lake- 
wood and Hope being the leading embryo cities. 

In 1881 this was all Government land, only fit 
for grazing. A few years later Chas. B. Eddy, 
now living on easy street in the city of New York, 
woke up to the fact that it would make a farming 
country. He and his brother John owned a large 
cattle ranch at Salida, Colorado. 

In the spring of 1882 the Eddy brothers moved 
some of their cattle from Colorado and establish- 



286 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

ed a cattle ranch near where Carlsbad, the county 
seat of Eddy County, is now located. 

In the early winter of 1882, while riding down 
the Pecos River, I passed the new adobe ranch 
house of the Eddy brothers, only a few hundred 
yards' east of the road. 

A man sitting on the west side of the building 
waved at me. I rode over and Mr. C. B. Eddy in- 
troduced himself to me and wanted to know if 
there was any news of importance up at Roswell. 

He was alone, as his cowboys had gone out on 
the range to look after the cattle. It being at the 
noon hour he cooked a nice meal for me and him- 
self. 

Five years later, in 1887, while doing detective 
work I iDoarded a stage coach in Carthage, on the 
Rio Grande river, for a ninety mile ride to White 
Oaks. 

The only passengers in the stage coach, besides 
myself, were a lady and a fine looking, dark com- 
plected gentleman of middle age. 

This gentleman kept eying me, but I pretended 
not to notice it. 

When about half way on our journey he spoke 
to me, saying: ''Say, partner, didn't you ride 
down the Pecos River in 1882, mounted on a white 
crop-eared horse ? ' ' 

Of course I answered *'yes," then he continued : 
"My name is Charles B. Eddy, and I cooked din- 
ner for vou at mv ranch. ' ' 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 287 

Now we shook hands and ''harked back" to the 
cattle days. 

In White Oaks we pnt up at the Ozane Hotel, 
and here Mr. Eddy gave me a confideniai tip. lie 
advised me to throw up any other business that 
I might be engaged in and hurry to the Pecos 
Valley and secure some land. He said he was now 
on the way to Roswell, and that within a year the 
whole Pecos Valley would be on a boom, as he 
had succeeded in getting millions of dollars with 
which to develop that country, in the way of new 
railroads and irrigation dams. But I didn't have 
sense enough to take his advice. 

In 1888 the valley was on a big boom, and the 
Government land was being gobbled up fast. In 
many ways it was being stolen from the Govern- 
ment. A friend of mine spent the summer there 
doing detective work for the Pinkertons. He told 
me of a case where a certain individual, represent- 
ing a large irrigation Co., went to El Paso and 
hired sixt}^ old Mexico Mexicans at one dollar a 
day each, with free grub, to take up Pecos Valley 
land. 

Of course these Mexicans had to swear that they 
were citizens of the United States, in order to 
take up land. They entered one whole section of 
land each, in the choicest spots, under the desert 
land laws. 

When the water from the large new reservoir 
Avas turned onto the land, and a patent secured, 



288 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

these sixty Mexicans deeded the property to the 
Company. 

Now the ' ' foxy" individual, for whom my friend 
was doing the detective work, had these sixty citi- 
zens of Okl Mexico change their names and go 
further up the river, towards Roswell, and enter 
sixty more sections under the desert law. 

This land, with a water right, was worth $100 
an acre, so you can imagine the value of these 120 
sections, a total of 438,000 acres, secured through 
fraud. It virtually put millions of dollars into the 
company's hands when the land was sold to farm- 
ers. Still it did good by developing the country 
quickly. 

On my way back to Santa Fe, after finishing the 
work as Ranger for the Cattle Sanitary Board, 
they being out of funds to pay the twelve Rangers 
scattered throughout the state, I had the exper- 
ience of looking into the barrel of a big Colts pis- 
tol, while a drunken man's trembling finger was 
resting on the trigger. I had to endure the agony 
for about a minute, until the drunken Arkansaw- 
yer made his little speech against officers of the 
law. 

This stunt was pulled off in a livery stable, in 
the town of Moriarity, by Hamp Wallace, who had 
got the drop on me while my pistol was lying on 
a bunk out of reach. 

I felt sorry for poor, ignorant Hamp Wallace 
next day, when with tears in his eyes and voice 



A LONE STAR COWBOY 289 

lie plead guilty before a Justice of the Peace, in 
Estancia. He was let off with a fine of $25 and 
costs, and soon after departed for Arkansas where 
he will feel at home while hoeing corn and cotton. 

On reaching Santa Fe my cowboy outfit was 
laid away, and another start made at leading the 
' ' simple life ' ' on my Sunny Slope Ranch near the 
edge of the city. At the present writing, June 9th 
1919, I am still keeping it up and dreaming of the 
good old days when there were no wire fences, 
or scales to weigh fresh beef on. 

When the time comes for putting me under the 
sod, I hope the little verse by Charles 
Badger Clarke, Jr., which follows, will be 
carved on my headstone. This verse was dug up 
from the William E. Hawks collection of cowboy 
songs as appropriate for the wind-up of a fool 
cowboy's life history. 

Mr. William E. Hawks, of Bennington, Ver- 
mont, a cowboy of the old school, has been fifteen 
years gathering cowboy songs and data, with a 
view of publishing a true history of the early day 
cattle business, so that posterity will know the 
class of dare-devils who paved the way for the 
man with a hoe. 

The hoe-man will need no history for the bene- 
fit of posterity, as he is here to stay. When once 
he plants his feet on the soil, time or cyclones can- 
not jar him loose : 



290 A LONE STAR COWBOY 

*Twas good to live when all the range 
Without no fence or fuss, 
Belonged in partnership with God, 
The Government and us. 

With skyline bounds from east to west, 
With room to go and come, 
I liked m}' fellow man the best 
When he was scattered some. 

When my old soul hunts range and rest 
Beyond the last divide, 
Just plant me on some strip of west 
That's sunny, lone and wide. 

Let cattle rub my headstone round. 
And coyotes wail their kin, 
Let bosses come and paw the mound. 
But don't you fence it in. 

(The End) 



